Secrets of the Gods
by Phoenix Falconer
Summary: Definite Lokane. Loki has all but won Earth. The Avengers are in a check-mate. Nearly all of the nations have surrendered. The only person left to bring to subservience is the one woman that poses a threat to him...it just makes things more interesting that she also happens to be his brother's love. But does he really want to break this fiery mortal's spirit? Read and enjoy!
1. I : Marked

**Author's Note: So like everyone else, I've been infected with a love of Loki. I won't bore you to death, but I hope I do him justice here. But to warn you, in this fic he is a bit savage. Everything about him will be explained by chapter 4...(I have up to Chapter 5 written as of now!)**

**The Loki I always imagined was one that wanted to prove the world wrong. Wanted to prove to his father and brother that he would make a good ruler. A good king, one that his subjects would love. Because _let's be real here_. Loki would have obviously made a much better king than Thor in the events before Thor.**

**That's...fact. Not opinion.**

**PLAYLIST: Sons of Odin (Thor Soundtrack), Shadows (Rock-Violinist Lindsey Stirling)**

**DISCLAIMER: Not mine.**

**Anyhow. Rated T-M. Not sure. Right now I have it as T, but some events in this chapter get a little scandalous. Not anything scaring, but (SPOILER!) **if Loki giving Jane some attention bothers you, turn away!

* * *

May 2012

At first, Jane was furious that Thor didn't try to find her. But after a week of being sealed in the SHIELD bunker in Northern Canada, she understood why.

A week of watching her Thor fight his own brother was killing her. New York City was already torn apart by the fury of their battles. FEMA estimated about fifty thousand dead because of Loki's Chitauri army. The entire north eastern seaboard was under terror, destroyed. It was reminiscent of Nine Eleven, except on a scale about fifty times as large.

She did her part from the SHIELD bunker. She gave Fury her calculations, estimating based on climate change and weather patterns where Loki would open his next portals. She was correct on all accounts—she had predicted Boston and Miami, Dallas. Miami and Dallas were well prepared enough to have foiled his plans, but Boston was too late.

But even with all her predictions and her intelligence, it was too late.

Because within the next three months, it was clear Loki had won.

* * *

August 9 2012

"Miss Foster, we're moving you."

Jane looks up from her worktable at the SHIELD compound in Alberta. "Why?"

"We have intelligence," Agent Lewis begins slowly, "that Loki has an…interest in obtaining your person. He took over our Chicago office, and found records of your predictions. He now has everyone under his control searching the world for you, and we fear not every SHIELD agent is trustworthy."

Jane stands up and nods as she grabs her duffel bag. "Where are we going?"

"Utah."

"What? Utah? All of the US is under Loki's control."

"All of it, except for the desert states. He has no interest in Utah, Colorado, Nevada, etc. And the people aren't fighting. He won't expect you to be in the center of his domain. And, it's where the remaining Avengers have set up headquarters. You'll be better protected there."

_Thor._ "Thor's there, too?"

Agent Lewis takes her duffel bag as he leads her onto a helipad. "Yes. The remaining Avengers are there. And give or take a few of the mutants. Wolverine, Storm, and Warren Worthington, I think."

As Jane steps into the helicopter, she mentally counts the _remaining _Avengers. _Thor, Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Nick Fury. _ The Black Widow and Hawkeye were now working for Loki. And the Hulk had died within the first month.

* * *

Two hours of helicopter flight, and they were preparing to touch down just outside of the American-Canadian border. Lewis told her it was safer driving in the US than it was flying.

Four more hours of driving through Idaho, and Jane was surprised to see that life continued as it had decades before. The only pictures she had seen in the past three months were those of the destroyed Eastern cities. However…the western states appeared to be faring quite well under their new ruler.

She refused to acknowledge it might be a truth, even as she watched a rancher saddle up a pony for his daughter to ride in a corral.

"Stop," she says suddenly, seeing grey clouds suddenly manifest themselves on the horizon. "Lewis. Stop. Turn around. Turn around!"

Loki. Not a quarter mile away, in the road. In all his battle armor and glory.

Lewis slams on the brakes and the car skids. There's a blast of ice-blue light and the SUV takes a hit on its side. Jane screams as she feels the car roll onto its side, and then ducks down and covers her head as Lewis lets out a barrage of bullets.

Then suddenly, all is quiet. Jane unclenches her hands from her head long enough to glance up, and see that Lewis is dead. She gasps as the back doors of the SUV are ripped apart by a scepter that appears to have just melted the metal.

She covers her head again, repressing a scream.

Silence.

"Miss Foster."

She uncurls herself slightly and opens her eyes to see Loki crouching, gazing at her in the wreckage of the SUV.

He extends a hand to her. "With me, Miss Foster," he says in a surprisingly gentle manner. As though he were talking to a kitten. She stares back at him starkly. "You have no other option, Miss Foster."

"You…" she stammers, "you…you just killed Lewis!"

"A regretful action, I assure you, Miss Foster," he answers, beckoning to her with his fingers. "But he was a soldier, and he understands the consequences of his actions. I have no wish to harm a civilian such as yourself."

She looks back at him, as his strangely angelic face, glimmering emerald eyes framed by the gold of his helm. The infamous horns curved out of her view from inside the car.

"Come, Miss Foster," he repeats in not-so-gentle of a tone. It's a command. "I grow weary of your defiance."

She glances around. She's in the middle of nowhere. There is nowhere to run, no one to help. The rancher and his daughter ran back inside the house. She knows she has no chance against one such as Loki.

She takes his hand. His fingers close around hers as he pulls her out of the wreckage.

He stands a full foot taller than her. She tries to pull her hand out of his grasp, but he holds her tight against him as he stretches her hand upwards. She's forced against his chest. He smirks down at her.

"What are you going to do with me?" she whispers, unable this time to keep the fear out of her voice.

She feels his other hand find her neck, and his thumb presses into the hollow of her throat as it wraps around her shoulders, his slender fingertips pressing against the base of her skull. She hitches her breath, sure he's going to kill her. "Do it quickly," she gasps. "Please. Do it quickly." She's sure he's going to break her neck now. He furrows his eyebrows.

"I'll not kill you quite yet," he murmurs quietly into her ear, the metal of his helm cool against her heated cheek. "Sleep well, my lady." Suddenly, Jane feels herself go lax—and then, all is black. The last thing she feels is the sensation of falling into the arms of the one man she pledged to hate.

* * *

"What do you mean, Jane's missing?" Thor's voice quivers with restraint as he stares at Fury.

"Actually, she's not missing. We know exactly where she is, according to the eyewitness account of a rancher. Around noon time, a dark SUV was destroyed by someone the rancher identified as…as, well, Loki."

Thor roars in fury, and even the electric humming of Mjolnir is audible. "Do you understand what this means?!"

"Yes, Thor. We understand exactly what it means," Fury answers evenly. "You need to calm down. We're working on an extraction plan."

"I will not _calm down!"_ And suddenly, the air is crackling with lightning.

* * *

Jane struggles out of unconsciousness. She hears someone rush to her and take her wrist, feeling her pulse point. She opens her eyes.

"Natasha?" she rasps softly. The redhead holds up a finger. _One second._

"Pulse is still a little slow," she says briskly after about thirty seconds. She marks something down. "But that's to be expected."

"Natasha," she rasps again. "What's going on?"

"You are now under Lord Loki's possession," she answers quickly. "I don't know how, Jane, but he brought you to me in his arms and told me to watch you. And to inform you that you would be dining with him tonight if you had woken up in time, which, you did."

Jane blinks, struggling to remember. Then it all clicks into place. Lewis… She shakes her head, trying to forget now. "And you? Are you under his possession too?"

Natasha stares at Jane. "More of under his employ," she answers after a pause. "And before you judge, it wasn't for me. I had to save Clint. This was the only way."

"What?" Jane says, sitting up and rubbing her neck, still feeling the imprint of Loki's palm. "Working for the enemy was the only way to save your boyfriend?"

Natasha's eyes flare. "He would have torn Clint's mind apart. I know he's capable of it. Everything that was once private to Clint is no longer private. Our Lord knows everything. The only way to prevent that was to agree to work under his employ….which I did. I couldn't lose Clint, Jane, surely you understand."

"Where is Clint now?"

Natasha glances away, and reaches under Jane's hospital bed to retrieve a bottle of water. She hands it to Jane. "He's…on a mission for Our Lord."

"Your Lord," Jane corrects Natasha. "Not mine. I only know of one Lord, and last I checked, the Second Coming hasn't happened yet."

Natasha stares at Jane for a second, then bursts out laughing. "What?" Jane asks.

"Nothing," she chortles. "You just remind me of Captain Steve Rogers. He said nearly the same thing three months ago."

"So," Jane asks, swallowing the water thirstily. Her throat is completely parched. "What's the situation."

Natasha looks away angrily. "One thing you have to understand, Jane," she says after a pause. "As much as I hate it, I am completely under our new God's control. Clint's life is on the line. I can't risk that. And he—Loki—ordered me not to give you any information."

"So you're his lapdog now." Jane says harshly, standing up.

"Don't judge me," Natasha flares. "If Thor was being threatened, or Eric Selvig, wouldn't you do the same as me?"

Jane looks away in shame, knowing it's completely true.

Natasha puts a hand on Jane's shoulder and pushes her back down. "Loki will call for you shortly. I'll tell him you need two hours to clean up. Is that okay?"

"What do you mean?"

Natasha points to a bathroom Jane didn't notice before. "There's a suitable change of clothes in there. I also put some makeup in there. Lord Loki wants to meet with you before the night is over. Two hours, okay?"

"I can't put it off?"

The redhead shakes her head. "It wouldn't be wise. Two hours?"

After a pause, Jane nods her confirmation. _Two hours. _Two hours, and she would be face to face with the madman forcing her entire country—and possible world—to the ground.

* * *

An hour and forty-five minutes later, Natasha knocks on her door. Jane gives a start as Natasha walks in, looking at her appraisingly. "You look lovely," she says briskly. "He'll be very pleased."

"Why should I care if he's pleased or not?" Jane asks quietly, gazing at her reflection. Natasha had left her with a dark, hunter green pencil dress, with gold and emerald Swarovski crystals climbing up the sides. It looked like an emerald flame that threatened to consume her.

"Because," Natasha says patiently, picking up gold necklace. "He can kill you in a moment's notice."

The Black Widow sure doesn't sugarcoat things, Jane thinks wretchedly.

"Some things to be aware of," Natasha says quietly as she clips the necklace on. "He's very much a gentleman, despite your preconceived ideas of the man. Think back to the era of English royalty. That's how he treats women he considers to be his equal. But don't get me wrong. As much as he might appear to respect you, remember he has complete and utter control over your life. He still wants you to obey him without hesitation. Also, address him as My Lord. Never call him by his given name. Let him handle you as he will; he shouldn't hurt you, he hasn't even touched me yet besides to kiss the back of my hand or forehead."

"He kissed you?" Jane says, shocked.

"Not anywhere he shouldn't have. He's very…regal, very royal. He'll treat you like a lady so long as you act like one. So be demure, obedient, quiet—and he'll take care of you."

"How do you know all this?" Jane whispers under her breath as Natasha leads her out of her room. She suddenly recognizes the building she's in. It's Stark Tower.

"I've been under his employ for two months now. I've been around him long enough."

They're quiet now as they walk through the silver halls of Stark Tower. After a minute, Natasha stops and puts her hands on Jane's shoulders.

"Jane," she says seriously. "You need to be careful. I don't know what his intentions are towards you. But you need to keep your head down. You're his greatest enemy's long-rumored love. Just be careful, okay?"

Jane nods stiffly before turning to the gold-gilded door.

Jane opens the door quietly and slips in, quickly turning her back to the room as she shuts the door quietly.

There's a pause as she faces the door.

"Miss Foster," the man says quietly. She hears footsteps approach her, then stop. "Am I really so frightening?" She doesn't answer. "Turn around." She hesitates slightly before turning to face him.

No, he's really not so frightening. He's not wearing his armor or the horned helmet. Instead, he's wearing Ralph Lauren. Purple label. His hair isn't quite as slicked back…instead, it's more loose around his shoulders, feathery, almost. He's wearing a green and gold tie that he loosens around his neck even as she watches him.

He walks closer to her, and she steals herself to not flinch from him. He offers her his arm, and Jane remembers what Natasha said. _He'll treat you like a lady so long as you act like one._ She takes his offer, lightly placing her hand around the crook of his arm.

"Dinner, my lady?" he asks lightly, appraising her with his eyes. "I'm terribly sorry to have interfered with your lunch plans earlier today."

For the first time, she realizes how completely starving she is. "Yes," she answers stoically. "I…I would appreciate that."

He walks her around the sofa and for the first time, she notices the table set for two. She gives a cursory glance over the food placed out for them: crab and shrimp scampi, steamed vegetables and a bottle of wine.

She sits cautiously in the chair he pulls out for her before he sits opposite of her.

"Now, Miss Foster," he says casually, as though they had been companions for years. He lifts his head and gazes down at her through heavily lidded eyes as he loosens his tie around his neck completely and unbuttons the top button on his dress shirt. The tie hangs around his neck like a scarf. He looks remarkably relaxed in his domain. He reaches forward and opens the bottle of wine, stating, "I would offer you a glass, but from SHIELD's report of you it says that you do not drink alcohol any longer, correct?"

Her eyes widen. "Why do you know that?"

He smiles gently. "I made it my personal goal after my fall from Asgard to learn as much as possible about the Midgardian lady that so entranced my brother…the Midgardian scientist that caused even Thor, a god of over tens of thousands of Midgardian years of habit, to change over the course of three short days." He takes a sip of his wine, gazing at her innocently with brilliant emerald eyes. She freezes. "So, what, Miss Foster?"

There is a pause. "I'm sorry, Sir?" she asks hesitantly.

"So what, Miss Foster, is it about you that caused such a…transformation in my adopted brother?"

"I…I don't know." Her hands start shaking as she waits for his next move.

"Don't you?" he inquires innocently. "Then I suppose I might be so privileged to find out."

She stills. He's insinuating something. But before she could analyze his tone of voice, his expression, and his words, he changes demeanor again. "Forgive me, Miss Foster," he says, sincere. "I forget some Midgardian customs." He raises his wine glass to her, and after a second she raises her water to him, and they clink glasses.

"To my victory," he enthuses.

She shivers.

* * *

Surprisingly, Jane finds herself relaxed in his company. He's an excellent conversationalist, and is a complete gentleman in her company. The food is excellent, and he keeps to topics she's comfortable with—a lot of it focused on her past, but nothing of her private life. Mostly just questions about where she went to school, what she studies. He thankfully doesn't approach the topic of her family. She keeps very close to Natasha's advice to act demure, obedient, and tame. It's killing her, not to give the adversary of Thor a proper tongue-lashing, but she resists.

At the end of their dinner, he raises his hand over the table. In seconds, his scepter appears and Jane squeaks in fear, covering her head and closing her eyes. "Relax, Miss Foster," Loki murmurs. "Look." She opens her eyes slightly to see him wave the scepter over the table. The dishes and tablecloth vanish, to be replaced by a floral centerpiece.

"Come," he commands her, standing up, and not waiting to see if she'll follow his instructions. She does.

"Sit." He leads her out of the dining area and into the living room. She sits down on the edge of a loveseat, and he on a recliner perpendicular to it.

"Why the flinching, the fear, Miss Foster?" he asks, looking down at the scepter, and running his slender fingers over the blade.

"I would be…an idiot not to fear someone who could very well kill me in a matter of seconds," she answers quietly. "And I like to think of myself as smart."

"Certainly," he responds. "You are very intelligent. It is your intelligence I value, Miss Foster. But even so, your intelligence can get in the way of things."

She stares at him. "I'm not sure I understand, Sir," she says slowly.

"Firstly, Miss Foster," he answers, "you would be _intelligent _to address me as My Lord. Secondly, I understand that Miss Romanoff coached you in how to act around me. I do not want an _actress, _Miss Foster, I want you in all your fire, all that pent-up passion I know you possess." He leans forward, eyes bright.

She looks down, thinking over her options. He says he wants her, not the actress Nat had warned her to be. Fine. She was tired of playing the tame tigress anyways.

"Fine," she says shortly, staring him for the first time properly in the face. "Fine, _Loki." _ His eyes widen slightly at her use of his name. "You should know that I do not acknowledge you as _My Lord, _therefore I have no reason to call you as such. I'm not going to come to your every beck and call, and I will _never _bow to you, kneel to you, the way you forced my race to."

"So you say," he answers immediately. "And yet here you are…wearing the dress I provided for you, and under that, the black lace undergarments with the gold and green trim _I provided _for you." His smirk widens as she blushes furiously. "And why, pray tell, would you choose to wear such…unpractical clothing? Unless you expected something to happen tonight. Expect it, and perhaps even want it…crave it." He narrows his eyes, focused on her expression.

She stares in shocked silence. "You really think that highly of yourself, Silvertongue?" she whispers. She hadn't intended to address him as _Silvertongue, _just _Loki, _but now that she said it, it was too late to take back. "Don't flatter yourself. I will not ever…sleep with you." She blushes slightly, almost like a-

He narrows his eyes. _Is it possible? She's twenty-eight Midgardian years. It can't be possible. _Loki stands up, and she scoots back on the loveseat as he sits down on the other side. She makes to stand up quickly to escape arm's reach, but his hands are suddenly around her wrists, binding them with the tie he had around his neck. She struggles to pull her wrists away, but he had tied them firmly together, and with his left hand holding onto the end of the tie, pulls her forward towards him.

She's forced to look up at him from her slightly prostrated position. A flicker of fear crosses her face, but she doesn't acknowledge it. His right hand tilts her face upwards to him, cupping her cheek.

"You say that as though I intend to bed you," he murmurs softly, his eyes searching her expression.

"I don't…I don't know your intentions," she rasps nervously as he brings his hand around the back of her head, sliding his fingers through her hair before pulling her forward even further. Her heartbeat speeds up, sure he means to kiss her or break her neck, but she is surprised when he merely moves her jaw over his shoulder. It's a strange embrace, and he whispers into her ear: "Right you are. You do not know my intentions. Would you like to be privy to them?"

She's completely at his mercy, and she freezes in shame. He's poison to her.

His lips ghost over the exposed skin of her neck, and she arches her face and head away from him, not realizing she's actually making it easier for him to access her pulse point.

"Yes," she whispers quietly as Loki closes his jaws over her pulse point lightly, scraping her fair skin with his sharp teeth.

"Mmmm?" he murmurs as he bites down, _hard,_ on her neck, bruising the alabaster skin.

"Yes," she gasps louder, jerking her head away from him. She's just confirmed what he suspected in that action. He smiles inwardly, knowing exactly where he can get her. He let her escape his jaws, but his hand remained fastened tightly around her skull. "Yes," she repeats in a more even tone, but still panting. "I wish to be privy to your intentions. Silvertongue."

"That's what you were saying 'yes' to, my dear?" he asks suavely, removing his hand from the back of her head. She jerks her head and face away from him. "If I wasn't mistake, I would have thought you were answering 'yes' to my… _silver tongue_."

"Never," she spits out, glaring at him from hooded eyes as she struggles with freeing her wrists. He puts his hands over hers. But even as she glares at him, she's blushing and breathing heavily. He's completely certain now.

He smiles gently at her. "You have questions for me, my dear," he says, changing the subject abruptly. She stops fidgeting. "Ask them if you wish."

Her eyes flash with wariness. "Why…why are you doing this?" she asks slowly. "What do I possibly mean to you?"

He stands up and walks to the window. "Why am I doing this?" he repeats. "Because I can. Because I have the power to, and no one will stop me."

"Thor will. But I know better. You're not an idiot, Loki," she spits out. He whirls on her.

"You are _not _to use my given name, nor will you ever mention _his _name in my presence!" he replies angrily, raising his voice for the first time.

She ignores this and continues, "There's some tactical reason you took me. There's more to you than just being on a power trip," she reasons aloud, watching him pace the floor.

"Very astute, Miss Foster," he replies. "I took you because you are the one thing SHIELD could have used against me. You were able to predict my next targets with astonishing accuracy, and I could not have you interfering in my plans. Now, you should be grateful you are Thor's little mortal amusement," he adds. "Otherwise I would not be quite so hospitable, but as it is, you captivate me—" (_Captivate? Now that's an interesting word to use, _Jane thinks momentarily, then focuses her mind on his next words) "—and I am interested in hearing your opinions on my new regime."

"Why?" The word escapes her before she can snatch it back.

He laughs quietly, his raven black hair shaking around his face. He clicks his tongue at her. "Why not? You've already proven yourself everything I could have dreamed of."

"How so?" she asks.

"You've shown me that you aren't afraid to challenge me, something rather refreshing. You're also capable of tamping down your own opinions and obeying me, something you proved earlier this evening when Natasha coached you. You see, my dear Lady Jane," he says slowly, stretching her arms across his lap. He traces her forearms and she feels a strange flutter across her chest. "You have not disappointed your lord."

She breathes heavily, trying to calm down as he stands up now, pulling her up with him.

He brings his mouth back down to her pulse point, just under her jawline. "Ask it," he breaths, his breath hot on her throat, as he exhales after giving her another nip.

"Are…are you go-going to…kill me?" She gasps slightly as she feels his cool lips touch her throat for the second time.

He pauses in his answer, kissing her, then pulls back. "I wouldn't dream of it," he says sincerely, honesty in his eyes.

She lets out a sigh of relief, and relaxes slightly as the god puts his teeth against the skin beneath her jaw again. He's not going to kill her. She's not going to die. At least not right away.

But even so, she brings her fists up to his chest and pushes against him gently. "Please," she whispers, even though she is feeling some amount of pleasure from his caresses. "Please, please stop."

He scrapes her smooth skin one last time with his sharp teeth before stepping back, closing his hands over her tied ones. "I see another question," he rasps, and for the first time she notices his brilliant green eyes are darker, more cryptic. He _desires_ her, she realizes. "Ask it."

"You wouldn't…force me…would you?" she asks, jerking backwards as he presses his palm to her cheek. He holds her head still, grasping her face with both of his hands as he gently tilts it to the side, sweeping her hair out of his way. His eyes fall at the bruise he marked her with, just beneath the angle of her jaw. Her breath hitches and she starts breathing rapidly.

He lets go of her face and she stumbles away from him. He lets her as she puts both hands on the table, trying to regain her composure.

"Such proper language. But no," she finally hears him say. "I don't believe in brutalizing women. Or drugging them. And you, Miss Foster, are more than a woman—you are a _lady, _and so long as you behave and please me, you have nothing to fear from me."

She can sense him stepping close to her. "So you say," she replies unevenly, flinching when he puts both hands on her shoulders and starts massaging her. She rolls her shoulders uncomfortably. "So you say," she repeats. "And yet you…bit me, abused me."

He leans down. "Ah yes, Miss Foster," he says silkily into her ear. "An experiment, I assure you. It shall not happen again. You merely confirmed my suspicions. But no matter. I assure you, I will not force you. I will not blackmail you or otherwise seduce you…unless you, also, desire it."

"Also?" she murmurs as he continues moving his perfect hands over her shoulders and neck, massaging her. She can't resist not relaxing under his soothing touch as she rolls her head back, feeling her vertebrae crack.

"I was raised an Asgardian, Miss Foster," he says softly, tracing her shoulder blades. "We are taught to appreciate beauty. And you, my dear, are very beautiful."

_Did he really just compliment me?_

He turns her around. "I think that will be all for tonight," he says slowly, his voice low. "Natasha is waiting outside this room. She will escort you to your bedroom. But before then-"

He crosses the room to an ornate gold-gilded desk, where he takes out something. A necklace. A short gold one, made up of interlocking Celtic knots.

"What is that, Lo-? My Prince?" she adds quickly at seeing his eyes flash at the beginning of his name. She's called him Silvertongue, and My Prince so far. Both are true; he's a silvertongued prince. But not a Lord…not a king. She refuses to address him as such.

"Better, Miss Foster," he answers. "Silvertongue or My Prince will do just fine until you acknowledge and realize I am your Lord."

"That shan't happen."

"Won't it?" he asks idly. He holds the necklace up. "Turn around."

"What is it?" she repeats.

"Turn around," he repeats, his voice dropping an octave.

"No."

Of all the things to take a stand for, this is the one. She won't accept the necklace. She feels like it's comparable to a collar, and refuses to wear something that would mark his control over her.

"This is non-negotiable, Miss Foster."

"I'm not negotiating. I'm flat-out telling you, no."

He puts the necklace down. "Very well then," he answers her. "If you refuse to wear the necklace, then you are forbidden from leaving your rooms."

"I—what?" she asks, stunned.

"I was going to grant you freedom in the building, along with a one mile radius of the Tower, but until you acquiesce and wear the necklace, you are confined to your room."

"You can't do that!"

"Behave, Miss Foster. You are treading dangerously close to the edge. You've pleased me up until now. Furthermore, because of your defiance, you will not be engaged in conversation. Natasha will be given clear orders not to speak with you. I will have the television and computer from your room removed, as will be the books and other entertainment. I will black out the windows. You will be well-provided for, but in prison."

"You've already marked me. You've already bruised me, in a place visible to everyone." Her cheeks redden with shame here. "Why are you doing this to me?!" she suddenly seems to lose her composure. "Why are you…why are you doing this to any of us? We aren't your playthings!"

"No," Loki agrees, voice rising. "You are my subjects. Natasha!" he calls out, and the Black Widow opens the door.

"My lord?"

"Escort Miss Foster out of my sight, before I lose my temper and strike her. You may speak with her tonight only. Instruct the other staff that they are not to speak with her." He tosses the gold chain at the Black Widow, who catches it with catlike reflexes. "And see if you can't convince her to put that on…willingly."

* * *

**Review please!**

**Chapter II is complete, but will not be updated until I receive at least 10 reviews, or September 17 hits first. Whichever occurs first.**


	2. II : Necklace

**Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews! Here's chapter II, promised after I received ten reviews. To answer a reviewer-yes, Loki is very savage. He desires Jane, but like any other charismatic leader, he's extremely patient (like Hitler, Stalin, etc; they waited to seize power). Loki did not wait to seize power of the planet, but he is waiting for Jane.**

**You'll see he has ulterior motives. He didn't want Jane just because she's a threat to him, being able to predict his next military advancement. But that's the reason he's operating under.**

**Playlist: ...no playlist for this one. **

**Chapter II...here we go.**

* * *

Jane feels herself going crazy. It's been five days of solitary confinement. She can't go anywhere. She can't talk to anyone. Loki made good on his threat to black out the windows. She has no books, no entertainment.

Her room is fine. It's got vaulted ceilings with a beautiful chandelier. It's more of silver-chrome theme. The mattress is plush and comfortable, and her bathroom is larger than the master room at her own house in New Mexico. Her food hasn't been lacking either. Since the room is blacked out, the only way she can tell the time is by when her meals arrive.

Natasha used to bring her things, but three days ago she stopped. Probably on a mission.

And still, that gold necklace glitters mockingly.

The first night, when Natasha escorted Jane back to her room, she had talked with her. She gave her some ice for Loki's bite mark on her throat, which of course didn't help.

"Jane, what did he do to you?" Natasha had asked softly.

"I don't even know," Jane hiccupped in response, letting the tears flow freely now. "I just…don't know!"

The Black Widow doesn't press the matter, knowing perfectly well what had transpired. Loki was already making Jane his. He had tried to make Natasha his plaything when he captured her, but she was too much of a warrior. It wasn't until Clint was threatened that Natasha allowed herself to even be touched by the man. And even so, she made it perfectly clear that she was his hired mercenary, not a whore.

They had an arrangement: she would spy on foreign leaders and work for him, and he, in return, would spare Clint Barton's life.

Even so, Loki was unaware of _her_ arrangement with SHIELD.

By the sixth day, Jane had garnered the nerve to pick up the necklace. She touched it hesitantly, sure it was going to attack or shock her. But it seemed to be harmless. It was just a gold choker with Celtic designs. Hardly threatening.

Loki had told her that she wasn't going to get her freedoms back until she put it on willingly.

She was going crazy. The solitary confinement thing was not working out. Stealing herself, she took a deep breath before fastening the choker around her neck.

There was a slight _click!_ And other than that, it was rather anti-climactic.

She sat back down and put her head in her hands, trying to hold in the tears.

* * *

"Loki, you release her now or I swear I will wreak havoc upon you!" Thor bellows at the screen in the conference room.

"And if I sense your presence within a twenty mile radius of me, I'll just kill her."

Silence. Loki would never kill Jane, but Thor doesn't know that.

"Besides, dear brother, you have nothing to worry about. She is being treated like a goddess."

"She's innocent. You leave her be."

Loki smirks. "She's quite innocent. A lot more than you might think. I'm actually doing her a favor. Where she is now, she won't be caught in the crossfire, unless SHIELD is foolish enough to launch an attack at my headquarters."

Silence again.

Thor speaks, "Loki. I implore you. Give her to me. She means nothing to you, she's a civilian."

Loki suddenly becomes aware of the fact that Jane had acquiesced to him and put on the necklace. Time to cut the reunion short.

"That's where you're wrong, brother. She means nothing to the rest of the world, but to the only two Asgardians on all of Midgard? She is quite a valuable trophy. To you because of _love, _to me because having her in my _possession…" _he drawls the word out, knowing it's quite true now that she had put the necklace on, "means that you are beside yourself with worry…not knowing what I may or may not do to her… not knowing if I might _break_ her so completely, like our horses in Asgard, that she becomes the ideal mount—"

"_Where's your honor?!" _Thor bellows, raising Mjolnir to the screen.

Loki bares his teeth at Thor. "Torn apart, the way your dear Lady Jane's was last night."

"I swear to you, Silvertongue, if you—"

"The name is no longer an insult to me, Thor. Silvertongue is what Miss Foster refers to me as…after having been acquainted with the talents of my, ah, '_silver tongue_.'" He leers at his older brother, enjoying his pain. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to tend to Miss Foster. Remember, Thor—any attack on New York City, or any of the other capitals I now possess, and not only will I obliterate your Utah base—" a hum goes through the room, the other SHIELD agents clearly astounded he knew of their location—"but I will also kill your lovely lady."

Ignoring Thor's outburst, Loki disconnects from the server with a wave of his scepter.

He has a mortal scientist to tend to.

* * *

Jane hears a rustle behind her, like wind hitting the drapes, and sighs.

"I know you're there, Loki," she says.

It's been six days since she last spoke to another human being. Six days since her left her in solitary confinement, albeit a comfortable solitary confinement.

He pauses in answering her.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she says sarcastically. "You don't know how to respond when someone treats you like an equal. Let's start over. I know you're there, _Silvertongue."_

In a second, his hands are at the nape of her neck, sweeping her hair away to see the mark he placed on her throat. It had faded somewhat, but he had bitten hard enough six days ago that it was still evident.

"Don't touch me!" Jane flares up abruptly, feeling his slender fingers touch the fading bruise. She turns around for the first time to look at him properly.

He isn't wearing his armor, or a suit. No, he was dressed comfortably in what she assumed was Asgardian clothing, because he still looked like a prince in his black leather pants and tunic, trimmed with gold and green snakeskin.

"I just spoke with Thor," Loki says after a pause.

"Thor," Jane whispers. "How is he?"

"Well enough," Loki responds, striding over to the windows and pressing his hand to the glass. Each one he touches slowly becomes more and more translucent, until Jane can see the moon and starlight. "Concerned for your well-being," Loki adds. "I reassured him."

"Reassured him," Jane repeats, watching him warily as she crosses the room to gaze out the window. "Elaborate."

His eyes flash dangerously. "Manners, Jane. Remember your place," he says, his voice dropping an octave. "You do not have the right or authority."

"Like you have the right to take over Midgard," Jane retorts, glaring at him. She doesn't know where this sudden boldness came from.

"Yes, I do," he answers haughtily, raising his chin. "A right given to me by the gods."

"Not my gods," she flashes back. "Not any Midgardian god, Laufeyson."

"And you're wrong on both of your declarations," Loki says, eyes flashing red with anger. Literally, red. Jane stops, realizing she might have crossed the line. "Do not attempt to speak of that which you do not understand."

_I understand quite well._

Loki takes a deep breath. "I'm a god of my word," he says, changing the subject. "You can now engage in conversation to other inhabitants of the Tower. Natasha is out on a mission for me. But I believe one of your old friends, Darcy Lewis is on my staff here."

"Darcy? Darcy works here?"

Loki nods. "She worked for Mr. Stark when it was called Stark Tower. However, she proved useful in what you call PR, and I decided to keep her."

"Where is she now?" Jane asks cautiously, stepping backwards as Loki takes steps closer to her.

"Seventeenth floor. She's working on my our travel plans for tomorrow."

"Our?"

Loki smirks as Jane hits the wall with her back. He slowly walks forward, even as she starts moving along the side of the wall. It's then that she realizes that she's still actually in her bedroom…with an actual _bed _in the room…she does not like this at all.

"Yes, Miss Foster. Tomorrow we are temporarily moving to my European capital, Paris."

"I'm—we're going to _Paris?!" Could he possibly know? Could he possibly know my parents retired there?_

He smiles. "I sense excitement in your tone. But yes, Paris." He sighs in frustration as she moves to put a coffee table between them. "Stop running."

"I…I'm not running."

Loki crouches and takes three quick steps forward before standing up straight and still. Jane turns and runs to the door to open it, but it's locked. She looks back at him anxiously.

He gazes lazily at her with an amused expression before beginning his predatory walk to her again. "No," he agrees. "You most definitely are not running."

She stops and flattens herself against the door frame. "Why are you doing this?" she whispers. "Why?"

He's standing in front of her, running his finger along the necklace, and further still, her collarbone.

"I believe I've told you," he says quietly. "That I desire to know what it is in you that so intoxicated Thor…so what, pray tell, is so special about you, Miss Foster?"

"Nothing," she manages, closing her eyes tight as he tilts her head to the side. "I'm not special at all."

"Mmmm," he responds. "That's a lie." He bends his head down to touch his lips to his mark on her neck again. She inhales sharply when she feels his tongue on her skin.

"So…what…do you think…is special about me, then?" she asks him, squeezing her eyes tighter as his teeth graces her throat again.

He draws away. "Your intelligence," he breaths against her neck. "Your defiance, your fire, your passion. The _taste _of your skin."

She raises her hands to his chest and pushes at him. "Please, _Silvertongue_, please stop."

"You're teasing me," he says. "Silvertongue. Do me a favor, and keep calling me that." He does stop, surprisingly. He steps back.

"What used to be an insult is quite the complement from you." She blushes slightly. "I am pleased with you, my dear Miss Foster," he says. "For…submitting to my orders." He touches his hand to the necklace and she flinches. "You would do well to remember that subservience is a quality trait that will not go unrewarded."

Jane's mind flashes through her mental dictionary. _Subservience: prepared to obey others unquestioningly. Hell no._

He turns away from her. "It's eleven at night, my dear. You should rest. Tomorrow we leave at six."

"Rest? You expect me to sleep in here, after you've assaulted me in here again? After knowing that you can just magic yourself into my room uninvited?" _After knowing you can walk in and watch me sleep, and I wouldn't even hear because you'd just teleport yourself in! _

He glances back at her. "Yes. We have a long day tomorrow. Including a press conference when we arrive in Paris, which you will be required to attend. So yes, sleep tonight, even though I might be in the shadows watching you." He leers at her. He remembers something else she said. "And if you consider my kiss an assault, someday I might give you some real bruises to think about." An image flashes through her mind of him pinning her down on a bed. It wasn't there by her own imagination.

"Get out of my head!" she demands, closing her eyes, and falling down against the door. "You promised! You told me you wouldn't!"

"And I won't," he says immediately. "Unless you proposition me first," he adds.

"That won't happen," she says after a pause. "Never."

"So sure of that?"

He's suddenly behind her again, holding her hair up with one hand and the other around her stomach. "Still yourself," he orders her as she protests and tries to free herself. "Or I'll mark your other side." She stops moving.

His fingers run over the back of the choker, and then suddenly, she goes lax in his arms, put to sleep by his sorcery. He lifts her easily in his capable arms, and deposits her on the bed. He moves her hair again. She can't see what he can, engraved on the back of the firm choker.

_Property of High Lord Loki._

* * *

Jane shakes her head as she wakes up the next morning, trying to make sense of it. There's a dull humming in the back of her mind.

"Ugh," she moans, rolling her head back and opening her eyes. She blinks. What?

She's in a plane.

Wearing a outfit. Something she wasn't wearing last night.

_Loki. You SOB._

"Jane!" She looks up, surprised not to hear his voice. Instead, it's her former assistant, Darcy Lewis.

"Darce," Jane whispers. "What's going on?"

Darcy cocks her head. "Well, Lord Loki informed me that you were going to Paris with us. So, we're on a plane to Paris."

"Darcy." Jane fixes her with a firm stare. "How did I end up in this dress? Or on the plane?"

"Oh, that." Her petite friend fidgets. "Well, Lord Loki told me that he had ensorcered you to sleep a little too strongly. I changed you though, don't worry, I didn't do anything obviously, and I made sure to request that he leave the room. And, well, he carried you on board. It's about three PM."

_Three PM? He knocked me out at eleven! I slept for over twelve hours?! I'm going to kill him._

"Where is he now? Loki, I mean."

Darcy gestures over her shoulder. "In his private quarters, teleconferencing with the Prime Minister of Britain. Hey," she says suddenly when Jane pulls her hair back. "How'd that happen?"

"What?" Jane freezes.

"That…that bruise on your neck. It looks like…"

Jane squeezes her eyes shut.

"It is!" Darcy gasps, eyes wide. "Is it from…" she jerks her head to the back of the plane, where Loki's private quarters were.

"Darcy, please," Jane says softly. "I'm trying to forget." She rubs her temples. "But yes. Loki..."

Darcy claps her hands together. "Holy mother, Jane! How is it that you always get the hot gods? Why can't I, for once, have a Norse god? Do you reckon there's any more brothers?"

"Wait…what?" Jane asks, staring at Darcy. "You think—you think Loki is attractive?"

Darcy rolls her eyes. "Well, yeah. A fool wouldn't. He's tall, dark, and just sexy. And he has those piercing green eyes, like Thor's blue ones, but green like…like emeralds or something. And there's something about the way he's just so…I don't know, possessive? That is a total turn-on."

"What? You must be out of your mind."

"No, no, you don't understand! A month after agreeing to work for him I was leaving the Tower and these two idiots approached me, and started trying to rape me or do something to me. Anyways, I didn't have my Taser because Lord Loki confiscated it, but I was lucky he happened to be at the penthouse and looking outside at the time. He saw what was happening and basically saved my life, saying something along the lines of, 'You do not touch what belongs to me.' I was practically wishing he'd just take me. He told me to go back into the Tower and wait for him in his Suite."

"He didn't….you didn't…"

"No, unfortunately." Darcy sighs dramatically. "I wish we would. That would have been awesome sex. I mean, can you imagine a god? Think of the thousands of years of _experience!_"

"I don't want to," Jane answers quickly. "He kidnapped me and killed hundreds of people, Darcy! How can you enjoy working for him?"

"How can I not? He's treated me well so far. And he's been doing a pretty good job rebuilding Manhattan. He put those Chitauri to work. I don't think he's all bad. Oh, _and _he gave me a Maserati. What other girl is lucky enough to get a Maserati from her boss?"

Jane huffs and turns to look out the window, seeing ocean. "So, Paris? How far does his control extend?"

Darcy takes out her notes. "Pretty much all of Europe and Eastern Europe. England is still resisting, making up excuses. But Loki's not keen on attacking them, citing the culture in London and across the UK that needs to be preserved. Africa by default, mostly, since they aren't unified enough to fight him off but he hasn't even entered Africa because they aren't a threat. He's negotiating for Russia, and that's where Natasha Romanoff went. China and Japan still think they can fight him off. Surprisingly, the Middle Eastern countries have stopped fighting each other and are now mobilizing an army together. But Lord Loki will take care of that. And North Korea is doing what North Korea does best."

"Which is?"

"Threatening nuclear warfare or just ignoring our Lord's attempts to make contact with him. Not that they have the capabilities to launch a war against him. But seriously Jane," Darcy adopts a devious glint in her eyes. "Do you think the two of you'll ever actually have sex?"

"Not in a million years," Jane answers quietly. "He told me he wouldn't force me to his bed, not until I proposition him first, and I know _that _will never happen."

Darcy moans. "Jaa-aane! Man. Why can't I be in your position? I'd be _propositioning_ him right now. Mile-high club, baby. I mean, he's got a great body, most deep and beautiful eyes you've ever seen, and long slender fingers, he's probably really rough and you know—he is a god, so that has to be the best sex you'll ever get in your life. I mean, let me repeat myself, think of all the _centuries _of practice he's gotten! Why are you so opposed to him?"

"Yes, Jane." Jane freezes, as does Darcy, as Loki materializes in front of them. "Why are you so opposed to me?"

Darcy's eyes are wide with horror that Loki had heard her talking. She turns around nervously in her seat, but Loki wasn't paying her any attention. He was completely focused on Jane.

"Because you're killing hundreds of people and stripping their freedoms from them, Loki!" she spits out, standing up. "Is it no wonder I don't want to sleep with you?"

Loki smiles, flashing a little too much fang for her liking. "And yet, you enjoyed my ministrations on your neck."

"I did not. That was rape."

He stops smiling, and adopts a furious glint in his eye. "That was not rape," he growls angrily. "Rape is for those unskilled in the art of seduction. I do not believe in forcing myself on any unwilling woman. Do not ever call me a rapist again, Miss Foster, or I will break my code of honor show you what rape _really_ is."

Jane narrows her eyes, searching his expression. He actually looked hurt, offended, and angry. She had actually offended him.

He turns away from her.

"I'm sorry," she says softly before she could snatch it back.

He stops walking, and for the first time, Darcy is actually completely quiet.

"I didn't mean to hurt you," Jane says. "But I…you…I felt like you were violating me."

"Stand up," he tells her, "And come stand in front of me."

Darcy glances between the two of them nervously, seeing what Jane will do. She follows his instructions warily, stopping two feet from him. He takes a step forward to close the gap, and brings his hand up to her cheek. He avoids eye contact as he tilts her head again, inspecting the skin he'd bruised with his lips. He brings his fingers to it, and depresses slightly. She winces into his other hand, the one holding her cheek as she feels a jolt of pain. Then he lets go of her.

"You're no longer marked. You don't need to be self conscious about it anymore," he says quietly. "But I can't promise it won't happen again." His eyes glitter.

Jane has tears in her eyes as she turns to a mirror mounted on the inside of the luxury plane. He's right. Her skin is white, all evidence of his lovebite gone.

Lovebite? No, just a bite.

He's incapable of love.

"Miss Lewis," Loki turns to his head PR. She gives a start.

"Yes, my lord?"

"Come into my office in five minutes. I want to be briefed on the press conferences I'm attending."

"Okay," she nods.

He turns back to his office and opens the wood door; before he closes it though, he looks at Darcy. "And I'm flattered by your comments, Miss Lewis. I'll keep that proposition in mind."

The second the door shuts, Darcy turns to Jane and says, "If that wasn't sexual tension between the two of you just now, I don't know what is."

* * *

Jane doesn't see anything of Loki for the rest of the flight. Darcy is in with him for about forty minutes, but she returns to talk with Jane after that.

Darcy tells Jane that the press will be on the tarmac when Loki arrives in Paris. She says that Loki expects Jane to be on her best behavior, and that Jane will accompany Loki to the majority of his social and press events in Europe, and a few political ones, although usually it's Darcy he brings with him on the political and diplomatic meetings.

Jane is furious at the situation. Paris, she keeps telling herself. Her parents retired there. She can escape and meet up with them, maybe. Or maybe if she just asked Loki, he'd let her visit them…

No. Because if he said no, and she went anyways, he would know exactly where she was.

She can't even tell Darcy, because even though Darcy is the same Darcy she once knew, this Darcy is loyal to Loki completely.

"I'm sorry, what?" Jane turns back to Darcy. She sighs dramatically.

"Here," she says, leaning forward to hand Jane some fabric. She doesn't register it, thinking too much about her escape.

"What's this?" she asks, feeling the champagne colored fabric.

"The dress you'll be wearing when exiting the plane," Darcy answers. "And here's your heels."

"Are you kidding me, Darcy?" Jane asks, exasperated. "What's wrong with what I'm wearing?"

Darcy gives her a withering look. "You can't go out there and face the press with jeans and a blouse, even if they are from Express." She leans forward and whispers into Jane's ear. "I think Loki's metro. He's very up to date with styles and knows what looks good." Jane rolls her eyes. How the heck has Darcy managed to keep such a positive and sarcastic attitude?

Jane takes the dress and shakes it out. Darcy's right. It's stylish, but still modest. It's a V neck with capped sleeves that easily falls to her knee. She looks at the label.

Prada.

_Prada? _She hasn't even been in breathing distance of a Prada product. Ridiculous.

She inspects the design, unsurprised to see Celtic designs embroidered along the hem and collar. She sighs, then goes into the bathroom to get changed. Darcy had said they'll land in an hour.

"You can't be serious."

Jane stares at Loki as he emerges from his study, pointing out the window at the press that had assembled. It's only then that she realizes that they're matching—he has a champagne colored scarf with green Celtic designs. What is it with him and that pattern?

"Oh, but I am," he answers suavely.

That's a change in personality.

He extends his arm, and she hesitates. "Take my arm," he orders her.

"So, what?" she asks hostilely. "I'm to be presented as your consort?"

"You're not to be presented as anything," he answers patiently. "You'll do what you're told."

"And if I don't?" Behind her, Jane hears Darcy mutter, "Jane, just stop." But she won't

He smirks and touches the angle of her jawline. She manages not to flinch away. "Then, as you Midgardians say, we are back to square one."

_He'll violate me again._

"So play nicely, Miss Foster. Besides," he adds, a light in his eye, "you wouldn't want to worry Thor, would you? Stand high and proud for him."

Jane huffs but doesn't answer. Loki knows he's got her right where he wants her.

With a deep breath, she takes his arm and steps out onto the tarmac, blinking in the bright sunlight.

She blinks furiously as the paparazzi cameras go off, the photographers held back by men in dark suits with Celtic lapel pins. It's like Secret Service.

She pauses in her step, trying to get her bearings. Loki pauses with her, then leans down and whispers in her ear, "Chin up, walk." He flexes the arm she's holding onto slightly, almost reassuringly.

As she walks, her head held high, she wonders about all the publicity. She had thought Loki would want to be a private person. But he's enjoying all the attention. He's enjoying the paparazzi following them, albeit from a respectful distance, as they walk to a black limousine.

Then she realizes it: of course he enjoys it. Paparazzi are those who follow celebrities and other important figures in pop culture. Important figures that the mainstream public worship, and hold high on a pedestal. He's intoxicated by the fame, by the attention, and he can't get enough of it. Fame and the respect of the people is what Loki's always wanted—the media is giving it to him, their new _king._

It sickens her. She snaps back to reality when a man calls out, "Lord Loki, who is your lovely lady?" Cameras flash again. "Is she a goddess of Asgard?"

Jane blushes furiously and keeps her head down, but Loki frowns and says evenly, "Head up, Miss Foster." Nonetheless, he doesn't answer the question. She tries to pull her hand out of his arm, but he flexes his arm again. "Play nicely," he warns her.

"After you do," she bites back. They pause at the entrance to the car, where Loki spins her around to face him. The camera shutters go off furiously and here's a audible hum in the air as the people whispers among themselves. He brings a hand to her cheek.

"No," she says softly, furiously. "Not here, not to be documented for eternity."

He smirks at her. "I don't believe you have a choice, milady." And with that, he turns her face slightly to the car, tilting it up and throwing her off balance slightly. And he kisses her cheek, his lips lingering for a few seconds.

In those seconds, she realizes what he's done—at the angle they're standing, to the paparazzi it looks like they might be kissing. He's officially marked her as his, in the eyes of the rest of the world. Thor is probably watching this footage and having a fit.

Thor.

_Thor._

She hasn't even seen or talked to him since he went back to Asgard, and here she is accepting the affections of his younger brother. What must he think of her?

Before she knows it, she's being shoved into the back of the car, Loki in after her. The door shuts, and it's just the two of them alone. The windows are darkly tinted, but as she looks out, she can see Darcy sliding into the passenger seat, her clipboard in hand.

However, this limousine has a black divider between the passengers and the driver.

In the darkness, she glowers at Loki. "What was that about?"

"Telling your dear Midgardians that no one is to take you from me."

_At least he's honest._

"So I _am_ your consort."

He narrows his eyes, eyes flashing red again. "Would you rather be my concubine?"

She shakes her head quickly.

"Then don't complain."

* * *

They are placed in the top floor of the Marriott hotel in Paris. Loki gives Jane specific guidelines—she is not to leave more than a five mile radius of the hotel, or if she is with him, no more than a one mile radius at any one time. She is to return to the hotel by ten PM. She is not to be left alone in a room with a man at any one time. She is to enjoy the city.

He actually gave her an order to "enjoy the city."

Oh, she will. Her parents live almost exactly five miles from the hotel, in a little suburb. She knows what she's doing the first day.

After the press conference, in which she practically acted as a lawn ornament, Loki informs her that the next day he is attending a summit with other European leaders to discuss economic conditions from eight AM to five PM. Tomorrow, he wants her back at the hotel by seven.

She has plenty of time to escape and visit her parents.

But she can't tell anyone. She doesn't want Loki knowing where her parents live.

Jane can hardly wait for the next morning.

* * *

**Author's Note: There we go. Darcy's back and stirring up more mischief than the God of Mischief.**

**Read and Review! Chapter III is completed. I'll update when I get 15 more reviews for a total of 25.**

**Thanks thanks thanks!**


	3. III : Kin

**Author's Note: Whew! You guys are making me work fast! Here's Chapter III, as promised after receiving 25 total reviews.**

**Thanks for your kind words! **

* * *

9 AM, the next morning.

On the train, Jane could feel the stares of the other Parisians on her. They definitely recognized her. She didn't need to pay for anything so far, and people practically parted to get out of her way. Of course they do; they think she's a goddess of Asgard.

Standing outside her parent's small home, she pauses. The stares of the neighbors from drawn curtains make her feel even more trepidation. With a sigh, she knocks.

The silence is ringing, deafening her. Then she hears footsteps. A door opens, and it's her father.

"Dad," she says.

"Jane." With a glance past her, he pulls her into the house. "Oh, Jane." He embraces her.

"Jane?" Her mother comes around the corner. "Jane!" She runs forward, and her father lets go long enough to let her mother hug her too. Jane hears another voice—

"Jane?!" She looks up. It's her older brother, Simon.

"Wow," she says, trying to hold back the tears. "Am I the only one not invited to the party? Simon, where's Stephanie and Phoebe?" Stephanie is Simon's wife, and Phoebe their seven year old daughter.

"On their way here, Jane," Simon says. "They'll be here around three."

"Jane—how did you—what—we could have sworn—the news—" her mother is incoherent.

"It's good to see you too, Mom." She glances around, surprised to see suitcases. "Where are you going?"

Her mother glances at her father. "We were planning on moving east. Somewhere less populated. There's a lot of unrest in Paris, and we don't want to get caught in it. People aren't happy with…ahem…the King's new social reforms. But enough about us, tell us what you've been up to!"

"You can ask the real question, Mom," she says as her family walks into the quaint family room.

Her father turns to her. "Are you…the _consort _everyone's been talking of?"

"No," she answers evenly. "Even though in Loki's mind I am."

"You say his name?" Her mother asks, astonished. "We've been given specific instructions not to!"

Jane rolls her eyes. "I refuse to call him what he wants me to. He's not my king or my Lord. I'm a scientist. I don't recognize his being a god. We're Catholic, remember—we recognize only one God, and it's definitely not Loki."

They sit down in the family room, her mother holding her hand.

"Can I ask…how the two of you…came in contact? I mean, all SHIELD had told us was that you were under their protection, but they never said why. Oh, Jane, I've missed you so much." Her mother pulls her back into her embrace. Jane blinks back tears.

"I was predicting where Loki would open more portals. You saw the destruction of his Chitaurian army in Miami—that was because I warned SHIELD of his plans. I was invaluable to them because I could accurately make predictions. Loki knew this, and wanted to eliminate the threat—namely, me. But for some reason, he didn't kill me. I don't know why." But she does know why. Thor would kill him.

"Has he treated you badly?" Simon asks warily.

Jane shakes her head. "As much as I want to hate him, I can't. He's been nothing but hospitable to me. So you don't need to fight off this one, Simon, the way you did my prom date." He laughs at that.

"I couldn't have that drunk idiot putting his hands on my little sister." Simon Foster smiles at her. "But what…what about the photos and the footage? It looked…it looked like he _kissed _you."

Ugh. Jane rolls her eyes again. "He did that to ensure no other 'Midgardian' would try to take me. He kissed my cheek, but the way he angled it made it look like it was a real kiss. He's actually been really…gentlemanly."

"What?" Simon asks, aghast. "He killed hundreds or thousands of people!"

"Only when he needed to prove it was useless to fight against him," Jane says. "He's been really…princely around me. He told me he's not going to kill me or…well," and her eyes flicker to her father here. "rape me. And I…I actually believe him." She omits the mark he gave her.

Her father shakes his head. "He's raped our world enough. Why you?"

"I don't know, Dad," she says. "That's the question, isn't it? I'm valuable to SHEILD, but not to him."

"Does he…could he love you?" Jane's mother asks hesitantly. "I mean…he seems pretty fond of you."

"Like a pet," Jane answers caustically. "Not like an equal." She touches the choker. "See this? He gave this to me. To make sure everyone knows that I _belong _to him."

Simon mutters something under his breath. "So then," her brother says, clasping his hands together. "I'm hungry. Let's get lunch. There's an authentic Italian place a half mile down the road. What do you say?"

Lunch with her family. Something normal.

She forgets about the five mile limit radius. She says yes.

* * *

Fond memories are shared, laughs and smiles exchanged, and Jane had almost completely forgotten about her ordeal. To her surprise, even the people at the restaurant recognized her and gave the entire family free meals and the best service possible. Her family pretended not to notice this sudden change in behavior wherever she went.

But her brother couldn't resist asking, "So, what gives?"

Jane glances at Simon. "That would be the people not knowing who or what I am. But I'm sure the press will figure it out soon now that my family's been seen with me. Loki gets things for free, price is no matter for him, so I guess people assume it's not matter for me, either."

"Free stuff," Simon mutters. "Nice deal. I wonder if extended family gets that benefit?" Jane hits her brother and pushes him.

"Ha, you could wish."

Back at the house, they find Simon's wife, Stephanie and daughter, Phoebe sitting in the living room.

"Aunt Jane!" Jane stoops down to pick up Phoebe and swing her onto the couch. "Hey, sweetie! How's it going?"

"I'm good, Aunt Jane," she says excitedly. "Dad said we're going to live in France now!"

"Is that right?"

"Yeah!"

Simon interrupts: "How much time do you have left?"

Jane looks at the clock. "He told me to be back by seven. I don't want to make him revoke my privileges too. I'll leave at five thirty to make sure I'm back by six at least."

"Oh, Jane," her mother hugs her again as Jane sets Phoebe down. "I don't want to let you go. I don't want to lose you."

"You're not," Jane says reassuringly. "I'm too valuable to him. For some strange reason."

Simon glances at the clock. "Seven hours, Jane. Seven hours. We could leave. We could get out of the country. Get someplace he'll never find you again."

Jane whips her head to look at her brother. "No. I couldn't. Loki would still find me."

"I'd protect you. I'm your older brother. That's my job." Simon sets his teeth.

"Not against an immortal," Jane reminds him patiently. "No, Simon, I'm not going to run from him. He's too powerful."

Jane's mother turns on the television, turning it to the local news channel. They are covering the negotiations going on at Versailles, the location Loki had chosen to meet with various European Union leaders. Loki shakes hands with the Prime Minister of England, David Cameron, who had just negotiated for one more month of uninterrupted peacetime as leader of his country while he prepares the government for Loki's future rule. France, Italy, Portugal, Spain, Norway, Germany and Sweden had all completely surrendered, with France agreeing to host Loki's European capital in Versailles.

"All I want to do is put a bullet through his skull," Simon mutters.

"Don't say that," Stephanie murmurs quietly, covering her daughter's ears. "Phoebe, can you go into Grandma's garden and get me two apples? I'm famished." Phoebe dashes off.

"Why not?" Simon responds angrily. "It's true. You know everyone wants him dead."

_I don't want him dead. _Jane thinks this before she could retract it. She's thankful she didn't say it aloud.

"I mean," Simon says, his fury barely contained, "Look at him. Thinking he can take away our rights and freedoms and thinking he can fix the world's problems?! Who does he think he is?"

The atmosphere changes very quickly. The temperature drops and there's a scent of danger in the air. All of the family is staring over Jane's shoulder, and she can only guess why.

"I think I'm your Lord," his chilling, lilting voice says quietly, menacingly. "And I do not appreciate your disrespect, mortal."

"Get out, Silvertongue." She says firmly, closing her eyes and not turning around. "This is private. You're not welcome here."

"I was not expecting such hostility, Lady Jane," Loki's suave voice envelops her. She stands up to face him. Her family seems frozen with fear.

As always, he is immaculately dressed. Not a raven black hair out of place, green eyes gleaming, Armani suit tailored perfectly. He's holding his staff, currently disguised as a cane with a gleaming blue gem on top.

"And why not?" Jane asks, more angry at him than before. "Your intrusion isn't welcome here. Actually, it's not welcome anywhere on this planet. But especially not my family's sanctuary. I don't want your poison anywhere near my family."

Just then, little Phoebe runs in, Loki's eyes watching her interestedly. "Mom, Mom!" she shouts down the hallway. Stephanie stands up quickly as Phoebe runs right past the adults. "I got you two apples, and look what else I found! A bird egg! It's all speckley, see?"

Simon moves quickly to stand in front of his wife and child. "You heard Jane," Simon says angrily. "Get out."

Loki smiles slightly. "I can see what's in your mind, mortal," he says softly. Simon shakes his head. "And I assure you, I have no interest in harming innocent, pure children such as your daughter." _Pure, _Jane thinks. _Why would he use that word?_

"I don't care," Simon reasserts. "Get out of here, you son of a-"

"Choose your words wisely," Loki interrupts him, eyes flashing that dangerous shade of red that Jane has come to recognize. "I would not have you calling my esteemed Queen Mother of Asgard and your goddess such a vulgar term. I would hate to end your life among your family, and I doubt Jane would be pleased with me."

_Why does he care if I'm pleased with him? _Jane quickly moves between the two alpha males, her petite stature not doing much to end the glares being exchanged. Loki lowers his eyes slightly, looking more menacingly than ever as he raises his staff.

"How did you find me?" she asks quickly, taking a risk and putting a hand on his forearm, the one that's holding the staff. He lowers his hand unconsciously as she gently forces it down. He exhales.

Her family watches in wonder as she's able to calm him down. Simon, especially.

"I gave you a five mile limit, and you left that five mile limit. Your necklace allowed me that knowledge, and I've been watching you since you left that five mile limit. I needed to wait, however, to visit until a time that the I could divide my attention." He nods to the television screen, where the live picture broadcasted to the major news networks shows a very real Loki sitting down as the King of Luxembourg stands up to speak to the council.

"How are you—" Jane's mother begins to ask, then slaps her hand over her mouth.

He turns his emerald gaze on her. "Sorcery, Madam Foster," he answers. "And I am a master of that particular art." His eyes glitter. "Among other arts."

Jane knows what he's referring to. _...for those unskilled in the art of seduction._

"Why are you still here?" Jane asks. "Don't you have someplace to be?" She gestured the television.

"I also came to watch the show," he says suavely. "I'll tarry not three minutes longer. But something exciting is about to happen on your television screen. Something you might not want your little one," he turns his eyes to make eye contact with Phoebe, who hides behind her father's leg. "to see."

Simon nods at Stephanie, who takes Phoebe and hurries down the hallway, warily passing Loki on the way. His ever-observant viridian eyes watch their departure.

"What are you talking about?" Jane asks slowly.

"As you mortals say," he answers, nodding again at the television. "Watch and see." The god snaps his fingers and the volume is suddenly turned up. The King of Luxembourg is turning to shake hands with the pseudo-Loki on screen. The translator says something about Luxembourg now owing allegiance to the High Lord, when suddenly, chaos mounts on screen.

There's several dozen gunshots from several directions. Pseudo-Loki falls to the ground, seemingly dead. Jane, safe in her living room, gasps in surprise and horror, and unconsciously grips the real Loki's forearm.

"Watch," he murmurs triumphantly, folding a hand over hers.

The Foster family can't help but do exactly that.

The shaking camera man zooms up quickly on the "dead" Loki, which now vanishes into thin air. There are screams, when suddenly two more gunshots ring out. It is Agents Barton and Romanoff, holding the two snipers hostage.

"What are they…?" Jane's father asks.

"Watch," Loki answers again.

Barton and Romanoff walk the two shooters down to the stage, where the leaders from the EU are staring around in shock.

Another Loki materializes on the stage, this time decked out in full battle armor. Scepter in hand, horned helm fitted upon his head, this Pseudo-Loki looks more threatening than the one in the Armani suit.

Pseudo-Loki spread his hands wide and laughs. "That is your best?" he asks in a lilting tone. "Two _Russian _spies is the best Midgard could come up with? Oh Russia," he says, looking into the camera. "You have irked me once too many times."

Just then, the man Romanoff was holding leaps up with a knife and plunges it into the exposed skin of Pseudo-Loki's neck.

He vanishes again.

"And this," the real Loki murmurs softly. "Is where I take my leave. Lady Jane, be back by seven. Pleasure to meet the esteemed Foster family." He strides over to Jane's mother and lifts her hand to his lips. "Madam Foster," He says smoothly, then vanishes yet again.

* * *

_The real Loki appears on the stage of the hall, dressed in the same Armani that he had left the Foster's in. He stands between the two would-be assassins being held by his own two hired assassins, and then spreads his arms. Gilded in gold, there's a ripple effect on his body as his iconic Asgardian armor manifests itself on his person, his vicious scepter poised. _

_ "Witness what happens to those who oppose me." He nods at Hawkeye, who lets go of his prisoner. The man stares at Loki in hate, and spits something in Russian._

_ Loki listens. The translator on the television channel quickly says, "The Russian said, 'go to Hell.'" Loki then says calmly, "Only after you." And plunges the scepter into the man's chest. He falls to the ground, and Loki extracts the scepter, drenched in blood, giving off an eerie glow._

_ He turns to the man Natasha had hold of again. "And you, as well?" he asks. The translator says, "I'd rather die than serve you."_

_ Loki smirks. "If that's what you'd rather do," he says, "then I would hate to reward you." And this time, he brings the scepter to the man's chest. The man braces himself, but instead of killing him, Loki turns him._

_ "Witness the fate of those who oppose me," he crows. "Death, or forced servitude. That is what awaits all those who would oppose me. For those who willingly serve me and pledge their allegiance to me, I will reward accordingly. _

_ This is a warning to Russia's prime minister and other leaders. Prime Minister Cameron acted appropriately in requesting more time, and I have rewarded England with one more month of uninterrupted peacetime. You, however, instead of dealing with me directly, now face almost certain death—I will not hesitate to annihilate all the major cities numbering fifty thousand or more civilians, along with the inhabitants of Russia. But I am a generous god, And I will allow you forty-eight hours to draft your surrender._

_ To Russia's president, Vladimir Putin and Russia's prime minister, Dmitry Medvedev—I would advise you not to run, and if you do, I will tear apart Russia searching for the two men who tried to have me killed. Along with every Russian child of more than one-fourth Russian heritage._

_ Now, if you'll excuse me," and here he raises a slender finger to the tip of the bloodied scepter; when he touches it, the blood vanishes. "I have some economic policies to discuss with the remainder of the…dignified European Union."_

_ Without another word, he turns to the set of twin doors at his left and walks through. The European leaders exchange nervous glances, then follow him out._

* * *

The Fosters stare at the screen as it cuts back to the live reporter, who is clearly flustered. In the background the "turncoat" Russian is dragging his dead former compatriot off the stage.

Simon turns off the television.

"That…was the man that was just in our house." He says hoarsely. "That's the man we're going to let Jane go back to? Absolutely not. I'm not going to let some sociopath take my little sister!"

"Let it go, Simon," Jane retorts. "You almost got yourself killed today. Don't piss him off, you saw what he just did. I don't think being my brother gives you immunity. And what were you thinking?" she chastises him. "Letting yourself almost call his mother a bitch? Letting…Oh, my God!"

"What?" Simon asks urgently. "What is it?"

"That's it, isn't it?" Jane replies excitedly, pacing the floor. "Thor. Thor told me that the one person Loki ever could really find it in his heart to forgive and love again was his adopted mother, the goddess Frigga. He blames his father, Odin, for lying to him all his life. He blames Thor because Thor…actually, Thor doesn't even know why. He just hates him passionately. But Frigga—Mom!" She turns excitedly to her mother. "You saw the way he treated you! He even kissed your hand, acknowledging his respect for you. He barely even met you. And—how did I not see it sooner? The Warriors Three he hated because they always showed favor to Thor, and the Lady Sif…_that's _what Natasha meant!"

"What?" Simon asks, aghast as Jane pauses. He, of course, has no idea what she is going on about. "What is it?"

"Natasha told me, 'so long as I act like a lady, he'll treat me like one.' Lady Sif acts like a male, she's a warrior, so of course he's lost respect for her."

Jane pauses again, eyes flickering as she thinks.

"He doesn't trust men," she says slowly. "But never has any proper woman wronged him…Sif has, in his eyes, because she favors Thor…in the Asgardian Court," she murmurs, forgetting her parents and brother were standing there, mystified, "Thor always said while the women would gaze and swoon over him on the outside, it was Loki they would undoubtedly favor inwardly… _that's _what he meant by the art of seduction!"

"The art of _what?" _Her father asks abruptly. "What are you going on about?"

"And what do you mean," her brother says slowly, "when you are talking about Thor and the Warriors Three and Sif…Frigga? You've met them too?"

Jane ignores both of them. "All his life he's lived in the shadow of his great father, Odin, and his brother, Thor. All his life he's—yes! Thor told me, that Odin told both of them that they were both born to be kings. Loki's a Jotun, he's not even Asgardian, and he was meant to be placed king of Jotunheim. That was Odin's plan. He wanted a son of Odin on the throne of Jotunheim, but one that the Jotuns would also accept as a king…Laufey's son. But Loki despises that race, and would rather be king and lord of Earth. He's just trying to fulfill Odin's prophecy. But not in the way Odin had desired it. In his own way. He's trying to prove everyone wrong!"

"And…" Jane's eyes are alight with excitement. "So then, where do I fit in?"

Her parents and brother are quiet, and little Phoebe and her mother had wandered back into the living area. "What's going on?"

"He told me," Jane murmurs, rubbing her temples. "He told me that I was dangerous to him. That I was the only thing SHIELD could have used against me, because I was able to sense his vulnerabilities and weaknesses with my calculations. I could predict where he would strike next. But he….there was something more there. Thor. He's afraid of Thor's revenge if he hurt me?"

"Back up, Jane," Mr Foster says slowly, taking his daughter by the shoulders and stopping her pacing. "You need to start at the beginning. You're acquainted with Thor?"

Jane stares at him. "Was I thinking out loud? Anyways, you weren't meant to hear that."

"You have to tell us, Jane," her father implores. "We can help you."

Jane sighs. "No, Dad," she says gently. "You can't. No one can help me, not even the God of Thunder himself." She shakes her head slightly. "But I think I can help Midgard. I'm in such a position…" she pauses. "I can't say it. Not aloud, anyways."

She glances at the clock. "I'm going to head back to the hotel. I promise I'll try to visit again. I think I might able to, but…" she taps her gold chain on her neck. "we'll see if Loki extends the leash."

"No," Simon asserts himself, standing up and grabbing Jane's forearm. "I'm not going to let my little sister go back to that creep."

"Let her go, Simon," Mrs. Foster suddenly demands. "I need to talk to Jane. Everyone else, get out."

Simon and Mr. Foster exchange looks warily, then leave the room, with Phoebe and Stephanie.

"Mom," Jane says quietly, "Please don't try to convince my otherwise. I've made up my mind."

"I'm not," her mother says. "I'm not going to try to dissuade you, that is."

"You're not?"

"No," she confirms. "I think you should go back. I'm probably a terrible mother, telling her daughter to return to the man who has killed thousands….No, listen to me, Jane," she says as her daughter tries to interrupt her. "Listen to me. You said he needs a mother. He can only trust women now, and only those who act like the domestic, demure woman that male chauvinists would expect. Think about what he's been through. I've heard some rumors, whispers of what happened…of course, it's all very classified, but journalists have a tendency and a talent for uncovering classified information. Anyways, I think you have a unique opportunity. Do what he wants…but be careful. I love you, okay? And stay safe. But…what's interesting about him, Jane, is that while he prefers the stereotypical housewife, I think he also likes your fire."

"Oh, he does," Jane says quietly. "Almost too much."

Her mother ignores that. "Also, I think you have a calming effect on him. When he was threatening Simon, you put your hand on his arm and he lowered it. I think you can do greatness in this role, Jane, and maybe even restore the Earth to its previous freedom. I want you to be safe."

"I will, Mom."

Her mother glances behind her. "Okay. I think you should leave now. Simon and your dad won't be happy, but I really think the two of them might try to keep you here, and it's important you return to…the High Lord Loki. Be safe, and remember—"

"—the constellations are different on the other side of the world."

"—the constellations are different on the other side of the world."

* * *

**Author's Note: Jane's mother, Sophie Foster, is my creation. As is her family. Read and review!**

**Let's say...after receiving 45 total reviews I'll update to chapter 4. This could actually be a problem-I only have to chapter 5 written!**

**Thanks!**


	4. IV : Quetzal

**Author's Note: Alright guys...a short one, but I hope the dialogue makes up for it. Took me a long time to write it. **

**I got a review regarding the fact that Lindsey Stirling is on my playlist. So she is once again for this chapter. As I wrote this, I listened to the youtube video _"Crystallize": Lindsey Stirling jams with blind piano prodigy Kuha'o Case_. An absolute MUST listen to. The violinist is the violin-rock dancer, of a calibre that has never been seen before. And Kuha'o Case is this _AMAZING_ piano prodigy, who has a mild form of autism and has been blind since birth. Please listen to it and prepare to be inspired! Around the second half of this chapter I listened to "Lights" by Lindsey Stirling. Search in youtube "Lights Lindsey Stirling" and it should be the first result. Sorry I'm advertising them, but I'm just so in love with Lindsey's violin music!**

**Alright. Diving right in. **

"Miss Foster," the French concierge greets her at the Marriott. "High Lord Loki requests your presence in his suite at seven thirty tonight for dinner."

"Requests?" Jane asks incredulously. "What's the real wording he used."

He looks surprised at her hostility. "No, madam, that's the wording he used. He actually made a point to say, 'If she is not feeling well, she should know it is in no way an obligation.'"

Jane shakes her head in confusion before thanking the concierge. What is Loki playing at?

She left her parents' home around four thirty, five-ish. She had wandered to the Paris library to find what she could on Norse mythology, but there was nothing new to be discovered.

However, her research did awaken a question in her—Who is, or was, Sigyn? Was she even real? And less importantly, where does Loki's children—the wolf Fenrisulfr, the serpent Jormungandr, and the horse Sleipnir fit into this equation? But even though her interest is piqued regarding the mythological children, she's more interested in Sigyn and her role in the universe.

In the end, Jane decided to join Loki, even though not three hours earlier she had watched him slaughter a man in front of international television. But she figured if she wanted to get closer to him, close enough to obtain his secrets and seek out his weakest points, she needed every opportunity with him that she could take.

She knocks quietly on the suite, and a soft, "Enter," is heard from the other side. She does so, at first not seeing Loki at all. Then she realizes he's on the balcony, still dressed in his battle armor, the one that makes him look so menacingly inhuman and cruel. She swallows; it's easier to speak with him when he's in a suit, but in his battle armor…the one that states his power, his status, and his race—

She tamps down her thoughts and walks forward to stand by him at the railing. He seems as though he's standing a good seven feet tall, even though she knows from SHIELD's calculations that he's six foot two. She gazes out over the dying light of the sun, illuminating the city with its rays, turning the buildings to flame. She feels him turn to look at her.

"So, Jane?" He asks. "What did you think of my performance?"

"Which one," she retorts, still not looking at him. "The one at my home, or the murder and senseless killing of that man?"

"Don't humanize him," Loki snaps at her. "He was a trained assassin, sent to kill me. He was a soldier, and he understands the risks of war."

"How can I not humanize him?" Jane asks, finally turning to look at Loki. The golden helmet looked like fire in the sunset, and his high cheekbones were even more accented in the lighting. His blue eyes were unreadable. "After all, he is a human. Which you so often seem fond of reminding me."

He stares at her before lifting off his iconic helmet and setting it down on a glass table beside them on the balcony.

"Your family is interesting," he says, changing the conversation. He walks back into the suite, beckoning her to follow him. As she does she, he makes a sweeping motion with his hand and the doors and blinds close shut on the balcony.

"You had no right to walk in on us like that," she says tightly. "No right to disturb us."

"You forget, my lady, that I own this part of the world now. No where is off limits. I am privy to every event within my domain."

"No there," Jane answers. "Not in the sanctuary of my own home. And threatening my brother like that-"

"After he insulted my mother!"

Jane stops short and stares at Loki, whose eyes are flashing red-literally, his green gaze is giving way to red sclera. She doesn't want to antagonize him. "So..." Jane begins slowly, "you admit, then...the goddess Frigga is your mother."

Loki snaps his head back, surprised that she had caught in him that trap. Then he calms down and changes the subject.

"Oh, Jane? Do me a favor, will you?" he says suddenly, his voice suave. "I left my helmet on the balcony. Please get it for me."

She's dumbfounded by his actions. She can't get a proper read on him tonight, but she follows her mother's instructions to listen to him and fetches his helmet. As she lifts it, she feels an undercurrent of power travel through her body. It's heavy, maybe seven pounds, and she runs a hand up one of the horns. It's topped with a wicked point, and even just pressing the pad of her finger to it gently she can feel the pain it would give if someone were stabbed with it.

She brings it back into Loki's suite.

He smiles gently at her as she sets it on the dining room table in the suite. "You have questions, Jane," he says, as if starting an entirely new conversation. "No doubt from your studies at the Paris library." He doesn't care to elaborate how he knows this. "I'll let you ask them in time, my lady, but I have questions first." He unstraps the metal plates on his forearm, then lifts the metal sash from over his head. He removes his outer armor of leather and drapes it over an armchair, leaving him in just his tunic. His pale arms show, and even though he doesn't have Thor's physique, Jane can still see strong muscle rippling under the skin. He rolls his shoulders back, cracking his neck, then walks to Jane. As he does so, his clothes change; he's back in a suit, the top buttons of his dress shirt undone, but the garments he already removed are vanishing as well.

"Sit," he tells her. "You had lunch about seven, eight hours ago. You must be hungry." He seems determined on forgetting his misstep of admitting that he still regards Frigga as his mother, and if so...then he must also, to a degree, regard Odin as his father and Thor as his brother.

She glares at him for reminding her of how he interrupted her family reunion.

"So, Loki?" she asks, using his given name again. He glances up, surprised that she would use his name. But he doesn't correct her. He quirks an eyebrow. "What do you think of my family, whom you so kindly interrupted and rudely threatened?"

Loki gazes at her serenely as food appears in front of them: salmon Caesar salad, and a glass of sparkling water for her and red wine for Loki.

"Your brother seems rather reckless and foolish," he says, taking a sip of wine, continuing on as though their previous conversation did not happen. "Rather like my own. You should warn him not to cross me again. He might not live, and I would hate to make his pretty little wife a widow and his beautiful daughter an orphan."

"You wouldn't," Jane says quietly. "I would never speak with you ever again. I would find some way to take my own life."

"I don't doubt that," Loki says. "But you forget something—I am in complete control of your life and death. _I _decide when you live and _I _decide when that life ends." He leans forward. "You forget, I am your Lord and God."

Jane smiles back, laughing quietly.

He leans back in his chair. "Am I missing something?"

Jane nods, taking a bite of her salad. "Have you ever read the Bible?"

Loki rolls his eyes. "Of course I have. And before you say anything more, Jane—there are secrets and threads between universes and the gods, and powers even above myself and Odin, that even you, with all your knowledge of the universe could understand. I know more of your Bible, more of the fabric of miracles than you, or your human scholars could ever know."

She stills. "What are you talking about?" she whispers. "that you have met _God?"_

Loki stares at her. "I told you," he finally says. "There are secrets and threads between the universes and planes of the cosmos that you could not comprehend. But I might be inclined to tell you a story," he adds, a light in his eyes. "A story that would blow you away so completely that you, with all your experience with the extraordinary, might not believe."

"A story?" Jane whispers. "Of…of what?"

Loki looks up to the skylight, where the first stars are showing. "A story of those threads I mentioned. A story of secrets not meant to be known to anyone but Odin AllFather, Jupiter JoveSky, Ahura Mazda…among others."

"So it's all true?" Jane asks, forgetting her previous anger. "Zeus…and Jupiter... all those gods…_Vishnu… _all of them are real?"

Loki pauses in his dinner to look at her. "Eat," he orders. "And I might be inclined to tell you some fairy tales."

Jane obediently lowers her head, thrumming with excitement, all anger and fury directed at Loki forgotten at the idea of learning new secrets of the gods.

Loki looks at her with hooded eyes, smirking to himself, pleased that he has her exactly where he wants her—intrigued by him, by all he has to offer.

* * *

For the next three days she is civil to him, and him to her. She doesn't visit her family for fear of antagonizing Loki more than need be, but she does call them every day.

He tells her "stories," as he calls it. "Fairytales," he assures her, "that I can't confirm or deny the truth of." It reminds her of SHIELD agents.

He tells her about space, and the fact that it stretches on forever. There are veils of cosmic dust, however, that make illusions or shields and prevent human telescopes from viewing beyond that point. He discusses the nature of the gods-that there are more than just Asgard, Earth, and the World Tree solar system. There are multiple other dimensions that can be accessed through a cut in the fabric of space. You just need a knife to make that cut.

He talks about the fauna found on Asgard. Of the great Sleipnir, an eight-legged horse gifted to Odin. Of bilge snipes, great animals that sound like a cross between a rhino and an elk. Of the regalis thrummer, a species of some sort of blue and green exotic bird. Of harkness luna, a wolf-like animal with wings and two tails. Of fire phoenixes, which surprisingly actually exist-however, they only live in Asgard. Their counterpart, ice phoenixes, reside in Jotunheim. Jane had asked if a species of phoenix lives in Earth-he looked surprised at her, and answered, "Of course. Midgard is home to the Forest Phoenix. I believe you call them Quetzal."

Jane thinks back to her one three-credit college class on ornithology. Quetzal. That green bird of the Central and South Americas.

She wonders if magic did exist on Earth before Thor.

* * *

On the fourth night Loki leads Jane to the rooftop of the Paris Marriott, which was flourishing with gardens. He makes her lie next to him as they gaze into the stars.

It would almost be romantic if Jane hadn't reminded herself that Loki was responsible for killing thousands of people.

"Tell me, please," she asks softly. "A story of…of the gods."

Loki takes her wrist across his lap, tracing the veins across her wrist and forearms.

"You know of the Norse Gods," Loki begins slowly. "Of Odin, Thor, Frigga, Sif and myself. What do you know of the Greek Gods?"

"Not much," Jane admits. "After…your brother came to Earth…I dedicated myself to researching as much as I could of the Norse ones. I didn't care for the Greek ones or Roman ones."

"The Greek gods are real," he says. "But not in the way you think. For example," he pauses here, thinking. "What am I the god of in classical Norse mythology?"

"Mischief...chaos...?"

"Yes," he affirms. "And what are my unique attributes?"

Jane furrows her brow. "You aren't actually an Asgardian by blood...you're a Jotun..."

"What does that imply, then?" For once, he doesn't seem angry that his Jotun heritage was brought up.

"You're a shapeshifter."

"Correct. So, then, if Eris is the Greek goddess of chaos, discord, mischief and strife... Does that sound familiar?"

"You," Jane breathes, turning her face away from the stars and to face him.

"Yes," he answers. "Likewise, Thor is the god of thunder, lightning, storms and strength. What Greek deity is that equitable to?"

"Zeus?"

"Yes," he affirms again. "Many of the Greek gods and Norse ones overlap. It just so happens that the mortals worshiped us differently and called us by different names. Rather like the way your culture has two religions—Islam and Christianity—that worship Allah or God, but what few people know is that they are really the same deity."

"So…what about the others, then?" she asks, still transfixed on this subject. "Like Athena, or Apollo—do they really exist?"

"Athena does," Loki answers. "And she's real Olympian. She's not an Æsir. She's the highest ranking Greek deity currently still in existence. As for Apollo, he died a few hundred years ago when he engaged in a war…" he pauses. "I cannot tell you much beyond that."

Jane doesn't ask for more information. Something else piqued her interest. "Apollo died?" she asks, trying not to quiver with excitement. "Gods can die?" If Apollo, famed Greek god of the sun, can die…surely that also means Loki, god of mischief is very mortal as well!

He turns to face her, taking her face in his hands, tilting her head to the side.

"Not very easily, but yes," he murmurs, lowering his mouth to her throat again. She forces herself to relax and not fight him. "For example," he says softly, and then suddenly moves sinuously like a snake against her. She yelps as she finds herself pinned beneath him, one hand holding a wrist to the grass, the other one firmly pressed against her throat. She brings the hand he isn't holding to clasp his wrist over her throat, panicking and trying to remove it.

"Relax," he murmurs. "Breathe." He moves over her, straddling her completely. With his leg he forces her knees down.

She listens to him, stopping struggling and breathing, realizing that he's not completely cut off her airways.

"What are you doing?" she whispers, swallowing heavily as she stretches her head back, trying to escape his grasp.

"You asked me if gods can be killed," he answers her quietly. "To answer, yes, we can. But not as easy as you, little mortal, can be killed. For example," and here he flexes his hand against her throat. "I can kill you in a moment by just stopping your breath. I would watch indifferently as your pupils go to pinpricks, as you choke for air, for relief. A god, such as myself," and here he leans back, letting go of her throat and hand but still straddling her stomach. "cannot be killed by such means."

She shakes her head, trying to still her panicked thoughts. "You know," she says slowly, lethally. "You really don't need to assert your dominance with such physical displays." She puts her hands on his chest and pushes at him. "I already know you can kill me."

He shakes his head, laughing quietly as he gets off her and pulls her to her feet with him. "And yet you still fight me, little mortal," he answers, starlight gleaming in his eyes. "Why not surrender?" he asks, leaning into her. "You know it would bring complete relief. You wouldn't have to worry about anything. I would take care of you. I would reward you and your family for their loyalty to me. Thor would no longer be in anguish, not knowing if you were happy or not. I would make you happy, pet…"

As entranced as she was by his words, his calling her _pet _made her flare. "Don't call me that!" she hisses, breaking eye contact with his venomous green gaze. "I'm not your pet, I never will be!"

"And why not?" he asks, grasping her upper arm to force her to look at him. "I should think you would like being my pet…" and here he fixes her again with that gaze. "I would care for you and please you in any way you wanted to. I would have a collar fashioned of only Asgardian gold and Jotunheim rubies to match your beautiful hair and eyes. I would play with you often, and you would never want for anything. You would sleep by my side. You would have anything on this realm you so desired…I would be a good master. All who saw you would be envious of the life you would live. You would be privy to all the secrets of the gods…I could take you across worlds and realms, show you all the stars and planets you've spent your life studying."

He takes both her hands and pulls her across the gardened rooftop, closer to the edge. Mindlessly, she follows him, entranced by his lilting voice, his strangely beautiful and angelic face, the deep emerald eyes reflecting the starlight.

"You could reign as my queen, Miss Foster," he says softly against the backdrop of the Parisian lights.

And here, in the city known by mortals as the city of love, he pulled her close to him. His arm on her waist, steeling her against him. His other hand threads through her hair as he tilts her head back, and brings his face close to hers. She can feel his heartbeat through the thin fabric of his dress shirt.

It was a secret of the gods he forfeited to her when he presses his lips to hers. A secret of Asgardian emerald starlight and Midgardian alabaster stone... a secret woven from lies and truth.

* * *

**Author's Note: Quetzals are beautiful birds. I encourage you to look them up on Google images. All I have written up to is Chapter V, so I'm going to update once I accumulate 80 total reviews, which means 32 additional reviews to what I already have. Thanks so much for all the kind reviews!**


	5. V : Quartz Glass

**Author's Note: I've had some people ask me why I have the entire review-new chapter system going on. Honestly, it's to motivate me to write. The more reviews I receive, the more inclined I am to continue writing. If you so wish, I'll get rid of that system, and I'll update on my own time-however, I still need those reviews! **

**Glad everyone enjoyed that last chapter. In this one, we see some less-than-familiar faces...should shake some things up a bit.**

**Warnings: mentions of rape in this chapter. If that makes you squeamish, turn away. I'll be changing the rating of this to M pretty soon.**

Mint. Leather. Metal. Frost. Winter. Mint.

Jane is frozen solid, even as she feels Loki's tongue trace the seam of her lips-but he doesn't press her. She snaps out of her stupor, banishing his scent from her mind as she brings her hand back and slaps him across the face.

"How dare you?" she shrieks furiously. He recoils back from her assault. "How dare-you, you, you son of-"

He grabs her forearm here and twists, hard. She feels her bones strain. She winces and squeaks with pain, her previous fury evaporated to be replaced by fear as his eyes flash red with anger again. "I'm not going to warn you again, Miss Foster," he says in a low tone. "Don't ever insult Frigga."

"You're hurting me!" she rasps, trying to wrench her arm away from his vice-like grip. He gazes down, then suddenly lets go.

She rubs her forearm, red with his handprint. She's sure it's going to bruise.

He turns away from her, angry. "Get away from my presence, Miss Foster," he says, looking out over the lights of Paris. "I want to hurt you right now." He stops talking.

Jane turns and flees down the stairs, back into the safety of her own suite in the Marriott.

As much as she hates to admit it, she would rather have him kiss her than have him be in a state of fury against her.

* * *

She shivers in bed alone that night, knowing that Loki was just down the hall. She touches her lips nervously, remembering the feel of his on hers.

As much as she hates to admit it (again), he had actually smelled really good. His natural scent was of winter-a distinct mint like aroma, the musky scent of leather, and the harsh tang of metal. Something that was distinctly him.

Mint. Her favorite scent, the scent she always used to burn in college when she was nervous or anxious. The plant she always kept in her window sill, so she could suck on the leaves as she did her research. And when McDonalds' Shamrock Shake season came around, she was in heaven.

He really is poison to her. His venomous words just entrance her, his commanding aura with his piercing emerald eyes pin her down.

Jane holds back tears. She really is his pet. His pet mortal. She wishes she had Thor. She wants Thor. Thor and his reassuring strength, his deep voice and his scent-metal, fire, and electricity and summer. The complete opposite of Loki. Sweet, sweet Thor...

* * *

The next morning she is awakened by the Black Widow, who looks at her impassively. "Lord Loki thought you might need supervision today," she says point-blank, not even waiting for Jane to awaken fully. "So if you want to wander the city, I'll be waiting downstairs in the lounge."

Supervision? Like a babysitter? The heck?

She's tempted to cease speaking to Loki. He obviously likes and enjoys her conversations and her fire. But as much as she wants to, there are still so many unanswered questions that she wants answered-he never finished his tale of Athena. And she still had questions about his other secrets...secrets of the gods. She decides to meet Natasha-maybe she can trick the spy into tell her some of Loki's secrets. After being under his employ for so long, surely there must be some that have been uncovered.

She doesn't want to spite him though. Even if he did kiss her last night. Mint. Mint and frost.

After a half hour of preparing, she heads to the lounge to meet Natasha.

* * *

"You requested my audience, Madam Foster?"

Mrs. Sophie Foster whirls around in her kitchen to face Loki.

"You!" she exclaims. "How-what-?"

"I am not going to hurt you," he says gently, blinking. "But I had the impression yesterday that you desired to speak with me. I would have had you brought to my headquarters, but as it is..." he glances around. "...I did not want to alert your husband or son to my presence."

"I...I don't know-what to say," Mrs. Foster sputters nervously, wiping her hands on a dishtowel. Having the magnificent man in her kitchen, facing her, talking civil with her-even after she'd witnessed all his personal public executions.

He draws a breath to start talking, but she interrupts him. "You are very lucky that my husband and son are out though. Why don't we sit in the sitting room...my lord?" she hesitantly addresses him.

He nods his approval. "As you wish, Madam Foster," he answers her, and lets her lead him into the sitting room.

"How is my daughter?" she asks immediately, abandoning all propriety. She's confident that Loki won't hurt her or kill her after hearing what Jane had analyzed about him.

"Well enough," Loki answers, leaning back comfortably in the green leather chair he had taken. "Angry at me, but if she wasn't, I would be disappointed. You raised her well."

"Thank you," Mrs. Foster responds softly. "She was always a good girl. Even growing up she was a spitfire."

"I wouldn't be surprised," Loki says. "She was very frustrated with me last night."

Mrs. Foster doesn't have an answer. Once again, she marvels at the world. How is it that she has the world's most powerful man sitting in her living room right now? How is it that he is acting so kind and chivalrous to her? How is it that her daughter seemed to have caught his attention? It just doesn't add up.

"But enough of this," the god says suddenly. "I am a very busy man, Madam, and as much as I would love to spend more time in your esteemed company,"-did he really just compliment her?-"I have business to attend to. You have questions for me? Or rather, concerns to address?"

"Yes," Sophie says nervously. "I don't know how to ask though."

Loki leans forward, peering into her brown eyes. She finds herself pinned, like a rabbit is by a wolf. "You want to know if I'm going to hurt her. I'm not surprised, Madam Foster. I would consider you a terrible mother if you weren't concerned for her safety. To answer that, no. I've reassured her that I'm not going to intentionally hurt her, and I will do what I can to keep her out of the crossfire. With me, she is safer than anywhere else."

Sophie nods, exhaling sharply. "Permission to speak plainly?"

"Of course."

She studies him momentarily. "I'm going to speak bluntly, My Lord, because you would consider me a terrible mother if I didn't. Are you planning on having sex with my daughter?"

Loki blinks slowly, eyes flickering. "I'll tell you the same answer I gave her. I do not believe in brutalizing women or in rape. Rape is for those unskilled in the art of seduction, something I pride myself on. I will not take her until she propositions me, as much as I may want to."

"So you do desire her." It was a statement, not a question.

"Madam Foster," Loki answers. "Do not take this in the wrong way when I say that your daughter is a very attractive woman." He stops talking there.

"But...you will, eventually..."

Loki answers patiently, "Only if your dear Jane wants to as well."

"Then there are some things you should be aware of," Mrs. Foster says, still unbelieving that she was having this talk. "Jane is-"

"A virgin," Loki finishes. "I already know this."

"What? No!" Mrs. Foster answers forcefully. "I can't believe-how-no! Well, in a manner of speaking-My Lord-she was raped! Twice, actually, two different occasions. She's never actually slept with anyone of her own choice and consent."

Loki leans forward, a venomous glint in his eyes. "Raped. Tell me everything."

Mrs. Foster is nervous now. Not nervous for herself, but nervous about what Loki might do. "She was seventeen the first occasion. We lived in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania at the time. She was walking home from a school contest the way she always did, just at ten PM instead of three or four. It was a gang initiation."

"She was raped multiple times?"

"Yes, My Lord." Mrs. Foster glances at the floor. "She was ashamed of it. She didn't tell anyone. It took a week to coax it out of her. By that time, there was no evidence. We still tried to bring the four boys to trial but there wasn't enough evidence. She'd waited too long."

"Do you have their names?"

"Yes. Somewhere in our files I think we have it in some legal documents."

Loki nods thoughtfully. "And the second time?"

Mrs. Foster sighs, still unbelieving she was telling the Norse God Loki about her daughter's traumatic experiences. But she could see that Loki cared for Jane at some degree.

"Her ex-boyfriend from college drugged her. This time we had him convicted. He was only in prison for three years though, and has been free ever since. Jane...Jane doesn't trust men very much. So, in a way of speaking...I suppose she's a virgin, in that she hasn't voluntarily slept with anyone."

Loki thinks over this. "I will want their names," he finally says. "All of the information you have on her assailants. You will see new social laws for my domain within the next week regarding rape. It will not be tolerated," he declares, more to himself than to her. "Punishable by death."

"I-I don't think that's necessary, My Lord," Sophie says hesitantly as he stands up. She stands with him. "No. I shouldn't think death is necessary at all."

He strides to her and takes her hand. "You misunderstand, Madam. I mean to make Midgard a peaceful world. Murder and rape will be punishable by death. No exceptions. Jane's assailants shall remain an example. Those files, Madam-I want them. By this evening I will collect." He kisses her knuckles once again.

He whirls around and in a flash of green velvet, he is gone.

* * *

Jane and the Black Widow walk the streets of Paris unchallenged. All recognize her as Lord Loki's woman, and all recognize the Black Widow as his red-haired assassin.

Through her conversations with Natasha, Jane had managed to find out several things: first, that Natasha hated being under his employ, no matter how lavishly he treated her. She wanted to be back with SHEILD, no matter how poorly they were faring. Second, Loki cannot be killed by any human means. That was proved when the Hulk went up against him. Third, he hates Thor with all his heard-and wants him to hurt more than he ever did. Fourth, Loki's perception of the world is throughly screwed up-falling through space like that had a serious effect on him. Fifth, Jane is the first person-and only person-to challenge him in the way she has been. Everyone else has been killed. And last, surprisingly, he seems to actually care about the general populace. He is working on a new series of social, economic and legal reforms that will apply to everyone.

"But what do you think about him?" Natasha asks, turning to Jane. "I mean, you're the one spending more time with him. He hasn't tried anything, has he?"

"No," Jane lies quickly. Natasha narrows her eyes, probably sensing the lie, but not calling her out on it. They keep walking.

"Well," Jane ammends, "he kissed me last night. But as for what I think about him...I want him dead and off this planet. I want to take back Earth and restore it to its former glory...with freedom."

"Really?" Natasha says dryly. "How will you do that?"

"I'm not going to," Jane says. "I just wish I could. I wish...I wish I could see Thor."

"Wishing is a child's fantasy," Natasha retorts. "Action is for adults."

"I know that," Jane says hotly. "But what can I, a mere mortal, do?"

"A lot," Natasha answers slowly. "You are in a unique position. He's giving you attention and he's giving you, more importantly, affection."

"Yeah, but I can't exactly stick a knife in him. Like that would have any effect."

"A Midgardian knife wouldn't," Natasha says. "But an Asgardian one would."

* * *

"I don't understand," is Jane's first words upon being lead to an an empty warehouse. Two mutants stood there-Storm and Angel. Natasha stands next to her.

"I'm a double agent, Jane," Natasha says. "I've been working with SHIELD all this time. Of course, for me to maintain my cover I've had to do some terrible things in Loki's service, but I tend not to weep over that. A few human lives is worth our overall freedom."

"And not only has she been working with SHIELD," Storm says, grey eyes shining. "But I've been working with Thor and Iron Man. Thor told us what could kill Loki. He's acknowledge that it must happen and has given his go-ahead." She nods at Warren Worthington, who draws aside his coat to reveal a holster. But it wasn't a gun that lay there-it was a knife. He draws it out and flips the handle, offering it to Jane.

Jane takes it and unsheathes the knife. It's maybe six inches long. And shining like quartz, rainbow prisms flashing through it. "What is it?"

"The only thing that can kill Loki," Warren answers. "It's a shard of the Bïfrost Bridge in its raw form. It has so much energy coursing through it that it will poison and kill an Asgardian. To a human, it'll just scratch us-but something about their genetic makeup makes it lethal."

"Loki's not an Asgardian though," Jane says slowly, holding the knife up. "He's a Jotunn."

"We've covered that as well. Thor assures us it will work. Loki's denied his Jotunn past so long that it's redundant. To him, he's an Asgardian. He will feel the effects as any other Asgardian."

Jane runs a finger along the beautiful knife, swirling with shades of red, blue, purple, and green. "Wait a second," she says suddenly. "What are you asking me to do? And how the hell did you get your hands on this?"

"Odin sent it down with the Asgardian lady Sif," Warren explains. He rolls his shoulders back and his wings unfold slightly. "Both have acknowledged that Loki's death must happen. All we're asking you to do, Miss Foster, is to deal the lethal blow."

"You're asking me...to kill Loki."

Storm nods an affirmative. "Yes. No one else has his trust the way you do. No one else has his confidence the way you do."

"It's only been like, ten days!" Jane exclaims. "I don't have his anything! I can't do this!"

"You can, Jane," Storm answers severely. "And you will. You are Earth's last chance."

"But-"

Storm takes another step forward, the wind suddenly having picked up in the warehouse. "Are you loyal to our cause or not?" she demands. Natasha stands in front of Jane, drawing her weapon. "Back up, Ororo," Natasha demands. "There are other ways around this roadblock if Jane doesn't want to do this."

"Yeah, Natasha," Jane says suddenly. "Why don't you do it? I'm not going to kill him. I can't do that." _I don't want to do that._

_"_I can't do it," Natasha says slowly. "He doesn't trust me, and rightly so. According to Thor, Loki has to be asleep when being stabbed. He needs to be completely relaxed. And there's no way he would sleep with me in the room-but he would with you. He's already made his desire for you clear, Jane."

Jane stares at her. "You mean to say that you want me to sleep with him, then kill him?"

"Exactly," Storm says. "You're our only option."

"No, she's not," a regal, ominous feminine voice comes around the corner. Storm whips around, as does Warren-his enormous white wings flare out threateningly, arching high in the air.

"If _she _doesn't have the guts or bravery to kill him-then _I will." _Mystique. Her topaz eyes glint savagely in the darkness.

"What are _you _doing here?" Storm demands. Lightning crackles around her form.

"Relax, Weather Witch," Mystique says sharply. "I want the man dead as much as you do."

"I doubt that," says Natasha dryly. "I would think you would want to work with him. He wants to subjugate humans as much as you and your allies do."

Mystique smilles, teeth contrasting sharply with her sapphire scaled form. "He killed Nightcrawler," she says angrily. "I might not have raised the boy, but he was of my flesh and blood. To add insult to injury, he then killed Azazeal. I want revenge. I'll do it if the human is too much of a coward to."

"Wait," Storm says suddenly, holding a hand up to Mystique. "He killed Nightcrawler? He also killed Beast."

Mystique stares at Storm. "Blue," she says softly. "Any mutant that is blue. Azazeal because he happened to be with Nightcrawler at the time, teleporting mutants out of Miami before the Chitauri arrived. That's the link here. Blue." Her scales bristle slightly. "Why, though?" Mystique wonders, thoughtful for the first time.

"I can answer that," Jane says, surprising herself. They turn to look at her in surprise. "Loki's not even Asgardian. He's a Jotunn. Do you know what a Jotunn is?"

All of them shake their heads but Natasha, who says, "You explain. You know it better than I do."

"A Jotunn is an inhabitant of the planet Jotunheim," she begins. "In our modern day mythology we call them Frost Giants. Their natural physiology consists of a deep blue skin and red eyes-" she stops. "Red eyes! That explains the ways his eyes flash when he gets angry. He's losing control of his façade."

"So you're saying his natural form is blue-skinned?" Mystique asks. "He's eliminating anything that reminds him of his heritage."

"Yes," Jane affirms. "He's trying to denounce and deny any proof that he was once a Frost Giant. To him, they are a despicable race to be destroyed and annihilated. Ironically, he is the son of the late king of Jotunheim, and should he so desire, he could challenge the throne successfully and win the kingship of Jotunheim. He's powerful enough to do so. But because he identifies himself as an Asgardian, and not a Jotunn, he would rather rule Asgard. And since he cannot rule Asgard, he settles for the next best thing-Midgard. To him, at least on Midgard, we resemble him more than blue-skinned Frost Giants."

Mystique, for the first time anyone has ever seen her, looks worried. "I'm the last blue-skinned mutant," she says, eyes hardening. "I'll not let that happen." She cocks her head at Jane.

Jane watches, mystified, as Mystique shifts form, taking on her own instead.

"I'll kill him tonight," Mystique declares, matching Jane's tone of voice.

"No, you won't," Natasha asserts. "Not until we have him comfortable enough with Jane." She turns to Jane. "Do you think over the period of a week, you might gain his trust enough to let him sleep in your presence? Mystique will take over from there."

"Wait," Warren says, wings still slightly outstretched. "How do we know we can trust you?"

Mystique returns to her original state. "You don't. But you have few other options. I can kill him. She can't. She's too emotionally compromised by Loki. Give me the knife, and I'll do it."

Jane holds the knife to her chest, sheathing it. "No," she says evenly. "I'll...I'll take care of him. He knows me. He trusts me."

"No," Mystique corrects her. "He trusts your _form._ How long have you been screwing him?"

Jane snarls back, "That's none of your concern! And we haven't, for your information!"

"Liar."

Jane opens her mouth to retaliate, but Natasha grabs her shoulder. "Leave it," she says sternly. "I trust Jane," she says to the mutants. "Therefore, Jane will be the one to deal the death blow. Understand?"

Mystique growls, almost feral like. "Your death," she barks, and transforms once again-this time into a sleek black raven that vanishes in a sweep of wings. Warren unfurls his wings suddenly to knock into her. She crows angrily, fixing him in a nasty glare before taking off through a hole in the roof of the warehouse.

"Don't antagonize her," Storm chides Warren. "We might need her."

He rolls his eyes. "We don't need anything that snake has to offer. I don't trust her. She's going to make a move on Loki. Probably in Jane's form." He nods at her. "And don't forget, she has unlimited forms at her disposal. She could even turn into Loki himself."

Natasha freezes suddenly. "Loki's a shapeshifter. How do we know that wasn't him right there?"

"Don't worry," Jane says absent-mindedly. "That wasn't Loki. Loki has a natural scent of mint and frost and winter. _She _smelled of blood and rust."

Her words do nothing to calm them down.

* * *

Natasha agrees to take ownership of the one knife in existence that could possibly put an end to the madness. She tells Jane that she'll give it to her after the first night Loki sleeps in her presence. Jane knows what they're referring to: they want Jane and Loki to sleep together. He would be exhausted and he would sleep after that. The next night they "sleep together," will be the night Natasha hides the knife under Loki's mattress. Then Jane would slit his throat.

She thinks that night. Loki hadn't visited her all day, nor had he called for her. Then again, she supposes, being ruler of almost half the world must be taxing on the mind and the body.

Does she really want him dead? No. She doesn't want anyone to die. But she knows if he lives, he'll just bring about more death. She just wants him gone.

Does she really want him gone? After all, the result is the same: the departure of Loki from her life. And there's still so much to learn from him! So many other tales of the solar systems and space! She could usher in a whole new scientific revolution with the knowledge that she gleans from Loki. And not just scientific, but theological too. Athena, for example-Loki says that she is real, that she exists. So then, where is she? Why hasn't she intervened, if she is the god of this planet as well? Why isn't she challenging Loki? Unless she lives in Olympus, which is like Asgard, an entirely different city floating in the sky and she can't access a bïfrost to transport here.

Jane rolls over in her bed, eyes closed, trying to ignore the thrum of the city beneath her.

* * *

Sophie Foster gives a start when Loki appears in her sitting room again, glaring at the god from her chair. She sets her crochet down.

"You can't just knock on the door like a normal person?" she mutters, a rhetorical question. Rather than angering him, he seems amused by the feisty older lady. "That would defeat the fun, Madam," he answers.

He suddenly turns stern. "The documents. On Jane's assailants, please." He holds out his hand.

Sophie stands up, picking up the manila folder with her. "What are you going to do to them?" she asks hesitantly.

"Make them an example," he answers, eyes hard. "Under my new regime, three things will be punishable by death: murder, domestic violence, and rape. No questions asked."

"So you're going to kill them." It's not a question. It's a statement.

His silence is confirmation enough.

"Sir, I don't believe killing is necessary for any reason," Sophie says nervously, clutching the documents to her chest in her wrinkly hands.

He looks at her impassively. "Under my authority, Midgard will enjoy a state of peace that has never been seen before. Death is a natural part of that peace. Think about it, Madam," he says, taking another step closer to her. "If everyone was aware that murder, domestic violence and rape is punishable by death, without any questions asked, others will be less inclined to murder, cheat and steal. I mean only to help, to heal Midgard from the scars left on its surface from the many wars battled."

He calm, low voice entrances Sophie. She wordlessly hands him the manila folder. He takes it gently as she lets go. Loki breaks eye contact, and Sophie shakes her head. "What did you just do?" she asks, startled.

"You were not going to give me what I desired, so I took it by force." He waves the folder slightly beside him. Sophie's eyes harden but she doesn't question him.

Instead she requests, "Please take care of her."

Loki blinks. "You know I will." In a flash of green and black velvet, he is gone again.

Surprisingly, Sophie Foster _does _know he will. In that way that only mothers can know.

**Author's Note: Hope you enjoyed! Also, I'm aware that Mystique usually doesn't take the form of animals, but in this story I need her to. What other mutants would everyone be interested in seeing?**

**Also, I do not have the next chapter completed. I have a lot of exams coming up this week plus five conferences on European security. I'll do my best to write, but I cannot promise anything. Remember, however-the more reviews I receive, the faster I will update because I will write more! Simple cause and effect, ladies and gents. **

**Thanks,**

**Phoenix**


	6. VI : Feathers From Olympus

**Author's Note: This chapter was hard to write. But I listened to violinist Lindsey Stirling's CD nonstop and I eventually finished it! (Speaking of VioLindsey, I saw her in concert! whoo! ...not that anyone cares.)**

**I took a risk with this chapter and I hope you like it! **

Jane takes a deep breath before knocking on the door to Loki's temporary office at the Marriott. To her surprise, Darcy answers.

"Jane!" Darcy launches herself at Jane. "We were just talking about you!" She pulls Jane into the office, where Loki is sitting at a mahogany desk, an amused look in his eyes. He blinks lazily.

"Miss Foster, how kind of you to join us. I was just leaving, but I am sure that you and Darcy, as you Midgardians say, have some catching up to do."

He turns to the door, then stops. "Oh, Miss Foster?" he says, a file appearing in his hands, "Pay a visit to your mother, will you? And give this to her."

"What is it?" she asks suspiciously as she takes the file. Their hands brush momentarily; Jane jumps back, and Loki fixes her in a gaze, amusement across his features. He captures her jaw with his hand and she stills herself. "Still running, are we?" he whispers into her ear, then steps back.

As Loki vanishes, Jane asks Darcy, "Where is he going?" She tries not to shiver.

"To finalize the deal on Russia's territories. He's meeting with Putin right now."

Jane remembers the threats he made to the Russian Prime Minister and President. "What happened to Medvedev?"

"He was killed," Darcy looks away. "But Lord Loki seems to like Putin, lucky for him. He's thinking of appointing him Secretary of Siberian Wildlife."

"Secretary of _what?" _Jane asks, dumbfounded.

Darcy looks up from her paper she was reading. "Siberian Wildlife. Lord Loki is very keen on preserving wildlife and natural habitats. You didn't know this?"

_No. I didn't. Apparently there is a lot I do not know about him._

"What's this?" she asks, looking at a map on the desk. It showed all of planet earth. As she looks at the markings, she can only assume what it is.

"That tells what is under Loki's control. Green are subjugated nations, yellow are in progress, and red are ones that still resist."

The overwhelming majority are in green. From Mexico to Canada, Greenland, and the majority of Europe. As she watches, she sees Russia's color slowly shifting to green-as though in progress. All of Africa was colored green. The Middle East was red, along with some Asian countries and Australia. Central America was mostly yellow, and South America was all red. All Loki had left to conquer, really, was Asia and South America. And it is only a matter of time before he succeeds.

"Do you know where his move is after Russia?" Jane asks casually.

"Yeah," Darcy answers. "I'm already setting up travel arrangements. We'll be leaving for Guatemala soon. Three days, once he wraps negotiations up with the remaining Eastern European countries. South American forces are joining with Central American ones and are wreaking havoc on the Chitauri. Loki is going there to squash the rebellion."

"Then where?"

"Probably the Middle East. They have a temporary peace now that Loki's the biggest threat, surprise there. Israel is getting twitchy though, because America's fallen. Loki wants to take over that part of the world quickly, before mass casualty breaks out, but first he needs to take down the South American rebels."

Jane nods thoughtfully. Three days. Three days left in Paris. Then going to Guatemala. She had three days of time to get close enough to kill him. She can do it, she's sure. She traces the borders of what used to be America.

"Hey, Darcy?" Jane asks quietly, not sure how Darcy was going to respond.

"Hmm?" she answers, not looking up from her work.

"You're a political science major. What kind of government do you think is the best?" She holds her breath.

Darcy finishes her notes then looks up. "To be honest?" she answers heavily, suddenly looking exhausted. "I've been wondering that a lot myself lately." She pauses. "Democracies are great and all, but there are a lot of flaws. Especially with the way America's democracy was set up. Republics have the same problem…I honestly don't think elections are the way to go. Because there will always be fierce competition."

"So then," Jane says slowly. "So then, what? A monarchy? A dictatorship?"

Darcy hesitates again. "No," she finally answers. Jane is surprised. "But I do think that Loki will make the world a better place."

"What?" Jane asks, aghast. "How can you think that? When he's killing by the hundreds?"

"Because he can stop wars. He can carry out punishments with no threat to his power. And he means well, Jane, he really does."

"Tell that to the widows and orphans and childless parents."

Darcy twitches. "Jane, you're not thinking. Look at the Middle East. They've stopped the war. Look at the Sudan. Now that the Chitauri have taken control, there is no more killing in that region either. Syria. The Civil War in Syria has ended because of Loki's threat. And once he's finished conquering those areas, no one will have any reason to war, because everyone will be united under one common leader. I mean, think of his new social laws. Penalty of death if raped-Jane, do you know what that would mean for you?"

Jane freezes. "What?"

"Well, I mean, he's doing this for you-"

"Doing _what _for me?"

"The death penalty for all those who rape or cause domestic abuse. Loki told me about how you were..."

Jane goes sheet white. "How did you know about that?"

Darcy shrugs, getting nervous at seeing Jane so upset. "I don't know. He only told me, though, so don't worry. No one else knows but him, me, you and whomever else you may have told."

Jane turns to face the map on the desk. Russia is completely green now. "I'm going to kill him."

It's only seconds later when she realizes she actually has the power to kill him.

* * *

As instructed, Jane visits her family once again to deliver the envelope Loki had given her. She's still confused as to what it means. She tried opening it but the pages were all blank-she suspected some sort of magic that would only allow her mother to read it.

She knocks on the door and her mother opens it, then throws herself at her daughter. "Jane!"

"Hi, Mom, I missed you too."

"Jane, come in!" She does so, stepping across the threshold. She noticed all their boxes are unpacked.

"I thought you were going to try to move to the countryside?" she asks, curious.

"We were, but since you're here, we may as well stay," Sophie answers. "Besides..." she hesitates here. "Your fine young man cast protective enchantments over the house."

"_My fine young man?" _Jane repeats incredulously. "What news reports have you been watching?"

"He's not bad," Jane's mom says seriously. "I think he means well."

Jane narrows her eyes. "Mother," she says slowly. "Have you been corresponding with him?"

"Why would you say that?"

Jane wordlessly pulls out the file from her shoulder bag. "He gave me this to give to you. I can't see the contents but I'm assuming you can."

Her mother takes it from her and flips open the manila folder. "Ah, yes," she says awkwardly, then sets the file on a coffee table.

"So," Jane says. "What's this about Loki having put protective enchantments on the house? Did you meet with him separately?"

"Now Jane..." Her mother looks uncomfortable enough to confirm her suspicions. "What did you talk about?"

"You, of course," Sophie says in exasperation. "What else do we have in common? He wanted information on you, and I wanted information on him. And I trust him."

"How could you?" Jane whispers, betrayed. "How could you side with him? He's a murderer, a monster!"

"But that's the thing," Sophie says quietly. "He's not."

Without another word, Jane walks out of her mother's home.

The one person she loved the most betrayed her to the one man she has now vowed to kill.

* * *

Over the course of the next few hours, Jane watches CNN from her room in the Marriott. Mongolia surrendered by default, being so close to Russia. All of the Asian countries were getting twitchy. There are rumors of China's nuclear missile program being reactivated. Loki had all but surrounded them.

Darcy knocks on her door. "Jane, Loki's back. He wants to speak with you."

"Tell him-" _to burn in Hell "_-I'll be there in a second."

Darcy closes the door.

What is it with all of her friends and family suddenly taking Loki's side? What does he have to offer that could be so much better than the life that they had been living before?

She closes her eyes. How would she go about this? She wants to know exactly how he knew about her personal history. No one knew except her family, and she's sure that her mother would not divulge something so personal. Maybe her former lawyers? But where would he even get the idea?

* * *

Loki feels like a complete fool. After hearing of Jane's rapes, he mentally cursed himself for threatening her with that on the plane. Everything is suddenly explained. Her aversion to his touch, his kiss.

His eyes flicker in the evening sun. He is exhausted. After finalizing the deal with Russia, and then a surprise surrender from Mongolia, he had dealt with far too many Midgardians. All he wanted was sleep-but not until he had spoken with Jane.

"Jane," he says softly, lowering his head and gazing up at her from his chair.

"What do you want?" Jane demands, hostile features across her face.

He stops short. "Why the sudden hostility?" He asks innocently. "I would think after visiting your parents today your mood would be far improved."

"It would be, if you hadn't been brainwashing my mother."

He stands up, his six foot and more physique a challenge to her five foot and something frame.

"I'm not above using mind control," he says sharply, "but I wouldn't on someone so near and dear to-"

His eyes turn red and then glassy.

"Loki?" Jane whispers, and then, just as suddenly, he crumples to the floor.

* * *

"_We warned you, Liesmith," The Other hisses as Loki wakes up on the grey-green slippery rock of _their _domain. "Where is the Tesseract?"_

_Loki rolls his eyes as he stands up. "En route," he answers, stalling._

_"_He _is getting impatient," the Other responds. Loki knows exactly what he is referring to. _

_Thanos._

_Loki blinks. "It has been but three Midgardian months. I need more time. Two more months, and I will have the Tesseract securely in my possession."_

_"You've had enough time. You have a fortnight. A fortnight, and then no more."_

_Loki has a sudden vision of being tied, restricted, bound by ungodly tendrils to a stone. And above that stone a venomous serpent with crippling poison. For the first time, Loki screams._

* * *

He wakes up on the granite floor of the office in the Marriott. Jane is kneeling by his side, Two fingers pressed into his throat and one hand on his forehead. His eyes flicker open, blinking to adjust to the sunlight.

It's then that he realizes he's back in his Jotun form. He makes eye contact with Jane above him, then quickly reverses the effects, sapphire blue giving way to pale beige.

"No one else saw, did they?" he asks uneasily, struggling to stand back up.

"No," Jane answers hoarsely. "I was hoping you'd die. So I didn't call for help," she adds. But they both knew that was a lie. She was worried.

Loki smiles at her. "I can't die quite that easily, my dear." He leans against the desk, panting with exhaustion.

"What happened?" Jane asks hesitantly.

"Nothing for you to worry about," he answers suavely. "I just had...a visitor."

"Sounded like more than that," she retorts. "You were screaming."

He blinks, trying to calm down. "You needn't worry," he reassures her again. "It was nothing."

"You might be a god of lies, Loki," she says, "but right now you're doing a lousy job at it."

He laughs softly, still trying to shake the experience from earlier off of him. He doesn't want to worry her. "Touché, my dear," he says. He sits down on a sofa, still disoriented. Fourteen days. Fourteen days to transfer the tesseract to Thanos. But that's not going to happen. The Tesseract is far too valuable to give to a megalomaniac like Thanos. No. He needed a way to kill Thanos, and he still hasn't discovered that way quite yet. If Thanos were to arrive on Earth-and destroy everything, after all of the progress he had made thus far...No. He would not allow it. Earth was _his. _

"You called me here for a reason," Jane says finally. Loki's green eyes flicker open, fixing his gaze on her.

"Yes," he answers after a pause. "I want to make amends."

Jane's eyes widen slightly.

He blinks slowly. "I want to take you somewhere, if you were to permit me."

"You are giving me an option?" She asks, incredulously.

He extends his hand.

Her caramel eyes flicker uneasily as he lowers his head, gazing up at her with hooded eyes.

She takes his hand. He pulls her against his chest, locking one arm around her waist and his other hand around her skull, pressing her cheek to his heartbeat. With a gasp, she feels a strange pull-and suddenly, the office vanishes.

* * *

She opens her eyes to find herself in a garden. The sun is just beginning to set. What is it with the man and his romantic tendencies?

He lets go of her and watches her expression as she gazes around her, taking in the sights. They are still in France, that much is clear. In a courtyard, it appears. Around her, lit up with fire by the setting sun, are archways and open-air halls. There are flowers of indescribable colors-and birds. Birds with their translucent feathers bullet over the grass. Surprisingly enough, an owl-a real owl-is perched above them in an archway.

"Where are we?" She asks quietly.

"We are going to meet someone I respect and hold in high esteem," he says, not answering her question. "So in response to where are we, I cannot tell you. She has forbidden me from disclosing her home."

"Who?"

Loki glances around him. "There," he says, nodding behind her.

She turns.

Walking toward them is a woman, wearing a white dress with gold and red accents. She is tall, and barefoot. She walks elegantly. Her hair is pulled back into light brown ringlets, and as she gets closer, Jane notices her eyes are a strange color of orange.

"Loki," she greets him. "I was waiting for when you would visit again."

"Paula," he answers suavely. "I'm surprised you haven't challenged me."

"Paula" tilts her head curiously and then tilts her head up and trills slightly. The barn owl above them swoops down to her arm. "You agreed to my conditions. I have no reason to challenge you."

It hits Jane like a stack of bricks. In her studies at the Parisian library on Norse Gods, she also took a detour through Greek gods.

_Athena is often attributed to being the Greek goddess of wisdom, courage, inspiration, civilization, law and justice, just warfare, mathematics, strength, strategy, the arts, crafts, and skill. She is often depicted and associated with owls, olive trees, serpents and armor. While her primary name is Athena, there are some accounts of her being referred to as "Pallas" Athena. Pallas. Paula._

_"_This can't be real," Jane exclaims suddenly. "This can't be real!"

The god and goddess turn to look at her. "And who's your lovely mortal?" the goddess questions.

"Ah, of course," Loki says. "Permit me to introduce Jane Foster. Jane, this is Paula. You may recognize her as Athena."

Athena blinks. "Pleasure," she says. "But Loki, I thought we had agreed no mortals were to set foot here..." her tone adopts a warning one.

"She'll not tell anyone," Loki reassures her. "I wanted her to experience the majesty of your gardens before we left France. May we have permission to walk about?"

Athena looks at Jane reproachfully before answering with an affirmative. She casts the owl up high into the air, and it soars upwards. "Remember our agreement."

* * *

"Why are we here?" Jane asks once Athena leaves. "Why did you bring me here? And how is she..."

"I want to show you," he answers simply. "There's something here I think you will find fascinating." He glances at the sun. "We have to hurry."

He takes her hand and, mystified, she follows him across the gardens.

She stops at an archway, and he turns to look at her. "With me," he says.

"What is it?" she asks hesitantly. "I can't see beyond the archway."

Loki pauses and tilts his head. "Can't you?" he murmurs, surprised. "What do you see then?"

"Mist," she says uncertainly. "What do you see?"

He smiles at her, and before she can protest, he takes her hand and pulls her through with him.

* * *

"What-" she stops, blinking to adjust to the brightness. They are standing on a cliff. The sun is still setting, and in front of her is a massive waterfall. But not like a regular waterfall. This waterfall is red. Red and orange and yellow. It's fire. She can think longly enough and clearly enough to know that it's not real liquid fire, or magma, but is the way the dying sun hits the waterfall. It lights it up to fire.

"Where are we?"

"The Athenian Sanctuary," Loki answers. "France. Athena, being the most powerful of the Greek pantheon, left Olympus after it was destroyed by the Frost Giants. Apollo died in that battle. She came to the only place she could call home-Earth. She settled down in France to create this massive garden, and sanctuary for culture and wildlife. That was her deal when I came to Earth-that I preserve the culture and wildlife, and she wouldn't challenge me or get in my way. Which is good, because she's one of the few that would actually match me in a fair fight."

It's the first time Loki admits someone might be able to defeat him.

"Why did you bring me here?" Jane asks quietly as they walk along the cliff's ledge.

"Because," he answers softly, "Athena also brought the one bird from Olympus I thought you would most want to see. And they live here."

"Bird?"

Loki walks out to the edge of the cliff. "They should recognize me as Asgardian," he murmurs. "So let's give this a try." He spreads his arms out and _sings_. She had not expected him to have such a beautiful voice, but even as she listens, she finds herself being whisked away to another world simply by the talent of his voice. "_Fallr kiin, seera oft na seen, dovahno lora kree, seer oft na free." _

Jane watches, fascinated, as Loki waits, not less than one foot from the edge of the cliff. Then, suddenly, four brilliant birds appear from beneath the cliff's edge and alight on his shoulders, his arms and hand. Two of them were enormous, with long golden tail feathers with red tips and bodies that shimmer in the setting sun. Their heads were black with golden quills and bright blue eyes. The other two were slightly smaller, but no less impressive. Instead of gold, however, they were silver. Silver with blue accents and white heads and red eyes. They were complete opposites of one another.

"What are they?" Jane whispers, mystified.

"Hold out your arm," Loki answers. Jane does so, and Loki casts his own arm out, dislodging two of the birds. A silver and a gold one fly out to her, and she's hit by a gust of wind.

"Loki," Jane whispers, too nervous to scare the majestic creatures. "What are they?"

"The Olympian phoenix, also called the Mountain Phoenix. These four are the only ones left in existence. Pallas Athena managed to take these four with her from Olympus to Earth. Someday, I'll bring Asgardian fire phoenixes to Earth. And Jotunheim ice phoenixes-about the only beautiful thing on that planet."

"They're beautiful," Jane says, bringing one of her hands up to stroke the golden one's chest. It trills at her.

Loki holds his two phoenixes up to a tree branch, and they obediently hop on. He walks over to her, and lifts the silver one off of Jane's arm and onto his.

"Why did you bring me here?"

"To make amends," Loki answers again. Jane is confused-she's never seen him this thoughtful, this sincere or gentle. This...this _kind. _ "Sit with me," he asks of her as he walks to the edge of the cliff with his silver phoenix. Jane follows him and sits beside him. Her golden phoenix puts its head into the hollow under her neck.

"He wants you to scratch his neck," Loki answers to her unasked question. "Like this." He reaches around the silver phoenix and puts his slender fingers across its neck. It clicks its beak and lowers its head, letting him scratch its neck.

"It really likes you."

"_She," _Loki corrects. "Silver ones are female, males are gold. This one's name is Alcyone, and you have Simeon." Jane scratches Simeon's neck and ruff the way Loki is to Alcyone.

Loki brought Jane here for a specific reason. Phoenixes of any species have an effect on anyone not divine-meaning, anyone not of god status. Jane is a mortal, so she will feel the effect. Loki, on the other hand, is immune to their influence. When in the presence of such an innocent and regal bird such as a phoenix, it is impossible to be angry. One would find a conversation to be very agreeable, with no malcontent. It is impossible to be anything but positive. On one hand, Loki feels slightly guilty for manipulating her emotions like this, but either way...

"I want to apologize for my treatment of you earlier," he says slowly. "For threatening you."

He watches as her eyes flicker nervously. "Why?"

Valid question. "I did not know of your past...history with men," he says slowly. As expected, she does not answer, turning to the golden feathered Simeon for comfort.

"And I would like to offer you my companionship," he continues, searching her face. The mountain phoenix's presence has rendered her docile. Docile and demure, completely devoid of all contention. Jane looks up at him, but doesn't say anything.

"But you know," he murmurs, lowering his face to her level, setting Alcyone on his knee. He leans forward. The silver bird ruffles its feathers and fluffs up before trilling and then pecking at his sleeve. He puts his hand over the silver phoenix's face, quieting her. "Your past history with men isn't all that there is to look forward in the future. It is possible to be happy with a man-with a _god_."

Jane blinks. "Show me," she says clearly.

Loki, shocked, snaps back. The bird trills in frustration at the sudden movement, and Loki puts his hand over the feathered head again to quiet her. "What?" he asks, shocked.

"Show me."

* * *

Jane doesn't know what she's doing. She knows that there is something about her environment that is changing or channeling her emotions, but she's very clear minded on what she just propositioned him. Her head is clear enough to remember the knife. The knife and the promise it brings. She'll kill him. Tonight. She can do it.

He leans forward to her. "You know what you are giving me permission to do, my lady." It is a statement, murmured quietly.

She swallows. She can do this. "Yes," she answers steadily.

Loki gently lifts her phoenix off of her arm, and his off of his knee, then throws them gracefully into the air. The call out to one another, beautiful sonorous tones of peace and tranquility as they disappear under the cliff. Jane watches mournfully as they dance a flight of grace and beauty, and she is hit with a profound sense of mourning and pain by their movements. Those phoenixes' home was destroyed completely, yet they still try to find peace here in Athena's sanctuary. But she wonders briefly if the regal birds are happy. If they could ever find joy again after the Frost Giants ravaged and razed their home of Olympus.

He takes her hands in his and pulls her up to him.

"Then kiss me," he says softly, emerald eyes narrowed.

Jane steals herself.

She can do this.

She reaches up with one hand to capture the nape of his neck, and the other one rests lightly on his shoulder. It's the first time she voluntarily touches him, and she is surprised to feel that his skin is cool. Not cold, but not quite hot as Thor's skin was. She feels his hands flutter over her body, one resting on her hip, the other one holding her jaw. His cool touch calms her heated emotions and flustered state.

He gently pulls her forward, tilting his head to the side. Then he waits, blinking softly.

She closes her eyes and leans forward, mouth slightly parted, to capture his lips over hers.

He is surprisingly gentle, parting contact after a tender scrape of his teeth over her lower lip. He doesn't force her to kiss him again, nor does he request it. He instead slides his hand through her hair, pulling gently down to expose her neck to him again. His lips trail down her throat, and his hand pulls her sleeve down slightly so he can plant a kiss on her collarbone.

He comes back up to her level, leaning his forehead against hers. She slowly opens her eyes.

"Let's go back to my suite," he says softly, blinking, emerald on amber.

Jane tries to regain her bearings, remembering her purpose here. Her reason for forfeiting everything to him. She's doing all this to kill him. She can't fall for him. Not now, not here. She is Midgard's last hope for freedom.

So in response to the god's statement, she says for the third time (and she is surprised to hear that her voice is steady), "Show me."

Time slows down as he pulls her against his chest, holding her there and they disappear in a whirlwind of green and gold.

**Hope you enjoyed, and remember to review! I do not have the next chapter completed, but I hope to have it up sometime in November! The more reviews I receive, the more likely I am to write.**

**xoxo,**

**Phoenix Falconer**


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